The Housekeeper's Proposal Read online

  The Housekeeper’s Proposal

  Book 4 of the Heroes of Hays 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

  This book is dedicated to my niece, Rose Wolfe Reese.

  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 19

  Epilogue

  THE END

  Chapter 1

  Jeremy Walker turned from the grave even before the gravediggers had begun to cover the coffin with dirt. He felt mixed emotions about Amos Walker’s death. The man was, after all, his father, but he had never looked up to or respected him. He would shed no tears for the man who had lived a selfish, uncaring life. One lone person had attended the funeral, and Jeremy waved to her before mounting his horse and riding away. Mrs. Carpenter had been his father’s only friend.

  No sooner had he tethered his horse in front of the three-story home where he had lived with his father, than a man rode up the lane and stopped before him.

  “Are you Amos Walker’s son?” he asked none to kindly.

  “I am,” Jeremy answered.

  The man, dressed in a neatly pressed black suit with a string tie, reached into his pocket and withdrew a paper. “Here’s what he owed me.”

  “Owed you?” Jeremy repeated, taking the paper. His felt his eyes widen when he saw the five-figure balance. “Gambling debt?” Jeremy asked.

  “Yep,” the man said. “If you look on the back you’ll see he made steady payments, but he still owed me a great deal of money, and I aim to collect.”

  Jeremy couldn’t imagine where he would get that kind of money, but he knew, as a gentleman, he had to honor the debt.

  “Would you let me continue to make payments on it?” Jeremy asked.

  “No. I could take your house or land, though. They’re worth less than what he owed, so you’d be making out better in the long run,” he said. “Or I could take your lumberyard and we’d break even.”

  Jeremy felt his whole body stiffen. Give up his home or his business? He cast his eyes down at the ground and wondered how he could possibly avoid giving up everything he owned. “I’d rather make the payments,” he said.

  “That option,” the man replied, “is no longer open to you.”

  Jeremy looked at the paper again. On the flip side was a record of the weekly payments his father had made. The amount had gradually lowered, but it was still more money than Jeremy had ever seen in his entire life. The writing at the top of the note said: “Amos Walker owes Ephraim Finch,” along with the sum, the date, and his father’s signature.

  “I take it you’re Mr. Finch?” Jeremy asked.

  The sour-faced man nodded. He was tall, had a thin mustache, and looked every inch like a cardsharp. “There is, however, another way to pay off the debt,” he said.

  Jeremy looked up at him, hopefully. “And that is…”

  “You could marry my daughter.”

  “But I don’t even know—”

  “That’s the deal—take it or leave it,” Finch said unwaveringly.

  Jeremy stood speechless. Despite the fact he hadn’t had a good relationship with his father, he had just buried him. Now, everything he owned was being threatened, and it seemed the only way out was to marry a complete stranger.

  “How old is she? What does she look like?” Jeremy asked, hoping she didn’t resemble her father.

  “She’s nineteen and attractive enough to have gotten herself with child by a no-good farmhand without a dime to his name.” Finch spat onto the ground as if his words had tasted sour. “She’s not far along, as yet. I found out about it when the hotel maid confessed she’d had no monthly—you know—last month.”

  Jeremy’s mind was racing. He had to determine which was more important to him, and quickly: his freedom or keeping his home and business. The question answered itself. Without his home and business, he had nothing.

  Jeremy shrugged. “I guess I’m getting married.”

  Finch smiled. “You won’t regret it. As soon as the vows have been said, I’ll destroy the note.

  “Her name is Helen Finch. You’ll need to procure a marriage license. I’ll bring her to the Justice of the Peace tomorrow at exactly two in the afternoon.”

  “No,” Jeremy said sternly. “That won’t do. The vows must be exchanged in God’s house. It’s my church or nowhere. Marriage is a holy sacrament, after all.”

  Finch shrugged. “I have no problem with that.”

  Jeremy’s first glance at Helen was when her father had pushed her into the church. She wasn’t beautiful or ugly by any means. She appeared on the plain side, with mousy brown hair, a thin nose, and thin lips. Her reddened eyes showed she’d been crying. He knew she must be as unhappy as he about the marriage. Her condition wasn’t yet evident, but being such a thin girl, it would be noticeable soon. Not only would he become a husband in a few moments, but a father, as well. He sighed and took Helen’s hand when the ceremony began.

  Once the vows had been said, Ephraim handed Jeremy the note and said, “I’ll let you burn it.”

  “Thank you,” Jeremy replied.

  Ephraim walked outside with them and embraced his daughter. “We’ll be leaving in a few days for Chicago. Be sure to write to us. Your mother will be concerned, and being ill, she doesn’t need that burden.”

  “I will,” Helen murmured. “What happened to Otto?”

  “I fired him, of course!” Ephraim exclaimed. “Impregnating my daughter wasn’t on his list of duties.”

  Helen hung her head. “I loved him, Papa.”

  Ephraim yanked her away from Jeremy but whispered so loudly, he heard him say between clenched teeth, “You’ve just married a man of substance. You and your baby will want for nothing. Be thankful I saw to your future before leaving.”

  “Yes, Papa,” she said timidly.

  “Now, go with your husband and try to fall in love with him. People in town say he’s a decent man,” he said as he gave her a gentle push toward Jeremy.

  Jeremy escorted Helen to his buggy, helped her up, and then turned the horses toward home, waving to Ephraim as they went.

  Jeremy noticed Helen’s eyes widening at the sight of the large, beautiful house that was now hers.

  “So,” Jeremy said. “This is our home.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, brightening somewhat from her sadness.

  Jeremy showed her through the house and introduced her to the housekeeper, Bessie, and the two maids, Geraldine and Ethel. “Ethel, our upstairs maid, will serve your personal needs. Geraldine is the downstairs maid. It�
�s a big house to keep up. I also have three hired men. Abe and Jeb tend the horses and the few cattle we have left, and Jake is the gardener.”

  “If you have any questions, I’m sure one of the maids or the housekeeper can answer them for you,” Jeremy said. “Ethel will show you to your room.”

  “I’ll have my own room?” Helen asked, seemingly surprised.

  “Yes. We’ll talk about that later. I have to get back to the lumberyard.” Jeremy turned and left the house.

  When Jeremy usually returned home, Bessie would be singing or chatting with Geraldine, but the house seemed uncommonly quiet. He entered the kitchen and found Bessie quietly basting a chicken.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked her.

  “Please tell me that woman isn’t your wife,” Bessie said, shoving the chicken back into the oven.

  “I’m afraid she is. Not by choice though,” he said, leaning on the counter. “Why? What has she done?”

  “She's been ordering us about like she's the Queen of England, is all. Ethel’s threatening to quit and so will I unless you do something with her.”

  “I see,” he said. “I’ll speak with her after dinner.” Jeremy left the kitchen and shut himself up in the library, which also served as his office.

  He didn’t know what to think when he heard of Helen ordering his servants around. From what he'd learned, Ephraim Finch wasn’t a rich man, and he didn’t think he had even a single servant. He was an avid gambler and resided above the Buckhorn Saloon, according to Jeremy’s lawyer. His father must have made his acquaintance during his visits to Mrs. Carpenter, who owned the saloon.

  While recording the daily lumber count in the ledger, Jeremy thought about what he'd say to Helen. He needed to explain their circumstances so she'd understand that their marriage was a marriage of convenience and would be "in name only."

  During dinner, he noticed Helen picking at her food as if it wasn’t good enough.

  “Is something wrong with the chicken?” Jeremy asked. He noticed Bessie’s head swing around as she placed the bread on the table.

  “It’s a bit tough,” Helen said.

  Jeremy watched Bessie’s eyes roll and her lips press together in anger. “Mine’s fine,” Jeremy said. “Shall I slice you another piece?”

  “No, I’m not that hungry, anyway.” Helen threw her napkin down on her plate.

  No wonder she appeared so thin; she hadn’t touched her dinner.

  Jeremy ate with gusto, since he'd always loved Bessie’s cooking. When Bessie returned to the dining room to collect their plates, Jeremy said, “Excellent dinner as always, Bessie.”

  “Thank you,” she said louder than usual and hurried back to the kitchen.

  Jeremy looked at Helen. “I’d like for us to take our after-dinner beverage in the sitting room. We need to discuss a few things.”

  She nodded.

  Bessie came in, set down a chocolate cake, and cut them each a generous slice.

  “Ah, Bessie! My favorite,” Jeremy said. “You're spoiling me.”

  Bessie winked at him and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Jeremy watched Helen shovel the cake into her mouth like she hadn’t eaten in a week. After tasting the cake, Jeremy said, “Mmm, this cake is fantastic, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve tasted better,” Helen said dryly.

  After dinner, Gertrude served tea in the sitting room.

  “If you'd prefer coffee, you need only ask,” Jeremy told her.

  “No, this is fine,” she said.

  As Jeremy stirred his tea, he studied his new wife. Thin as a fence post, she wore the same dress they'd married in earlier that afternoon. It was a soft pastel yellow that made her skin look ashen. Her brown hair had been pulled back into a bun, making her look like a schoolteacher he'd once had.

  “First of all,” Jeremy said, “my staff is to be treated with courtesy. Good help is hard to find. They work hard and will do anything for you if you ask them nicely and thank them. Is that clear?”

  “Why? What did they tell you?” Helen asked.

  “That you ordered them about like you were the queen. I expect them to be treated well.”

  Helen stood. “Is that all?”

  “No, there’s more, so please take your seat.” Jeremy rubbed his face with his hands. This was worse than he had expected. He'd hoped Helen would turn out to be a personable woman whom he might one day come to love, but that dream was quickly fading.

  “We’re married,” Jeremy began when Helen had sat back down, “but not by choice. We’re not in love and probably never will be. When the babe is born, I’ll give him or her my name and protection, as well. As for our living arrangements, you will stay in your half of the second floor, and I’ll stay in mine.”

  “Wait, you mean I have to live the rest of my life without love and affection?” she asked.

  "I’m sorry, but yes,” Jeremy said. “I’ll treat you well and see to your every need and to the babe’s, as well. That’s all I can do.”

  “I’m not sure I can live like that,” she said.

  “You can have the marriage annulled at any time, since there won’t be a consummation. You’re not required to stay here if you don’t wish to,” Jeremy said.

  “I’ll stay for now, but you can be assured I won’t spend my whole life living like this. It’ll be like living in a monastery,” she said, rising from her chair. “Is that it?”

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  Helen walked to the doorway, then turned to face him and asked, “What about fidelity?”

  “I plan to be faithful. I’m not an ogre, Helen, I‘m just not in love nor was I ready for marriage. Your father forced me into this arrangement.” Jeremy stood and walked toward her. “There’s no reason why we can’t be friends.”

  “I’ll try, but this whole thing is as much a disappointment for me as it is for you. I’m in love with my baby’s father, Otto,” she said.

  “I must demand that you not see him. Since I’ve vowed to be faithful, I expect you to be, as well,” he said. “We have reputations to uphold.”

  “But a woman needs a man…in many ways,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She turned and fled up the stairs.

  Jeremy sighed. What had he gotten himself into? He walked over to the fireplace, removed the note Ephraim had given him after the wedding from his pocket, and threw it into the fire. As he watched it burn, he wondered if he hadn't just burned his future away, as well.

  Chapter 2

  Four months later.

  Sheriff Griffin Hammond threw his head back and laughed so hard his eyes watered.

  “I don’t think it’s one bit funny, Griff,” his sister, Kate, said. With her hands on her hips she demanded, “Why is my desire to be a deputy so funny?”

  Griff stopped laughing and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Because you’re a woman, that’s why.”

  “That’s not fair!” Kate moved to stand in front of him. “I can shoot, ride, and do anything a man can do—why should my gender have anything to do with it?”

  Griff shook his head, stifling more laughter. “The worst thing they can do to a man is to shoot him. You have no idea what the worst thing a criminal could do to a woman would be.”

  “It still isn’t fair. I know I’d be a good deputy,” Kate pouted.

  “Subject is closed,” Griff said as he stood and grabbed his hat. “I’ll be home for lunch if you make chicken salad from last night’s leftovers.”

  “All right,” she said, visibly pouting.

  Griff opened the sheriff’s office and had just seated himself behind the desk when Fred Foster walked in.

  “Fred,” Griff said by way of greeting his long time friend and deputy.

  “Griff,” Fred nodded. “Have you found a replacement for me yet? My wife wants to move at the end of the month,” Fred said, leaning on the desk.

  “Not yet. I have my feelers out, though,” Griff said.

  �
��So what are you going to do about Walker? You got anything on him yet?” Fred asked.

  “No, and it’s bothering me day and night. I know he killed Helen; he had to have. Otherwise, where is she?” Griff asked.

  “He never seemed like a violent man, Griff. He’s nothing like his father.”

  “I know, but he’s hiding something. I had a talk with Bessie, his former housekeeper, and she admitted that Walker and Helen weren’t getting along. She claims Helen even slept in a separate room,” Griff said. “Bessie up and quit just before Helen disappeared. Said she’d had enough of their disagreements and the cold atmosphere in the home.”

  “I’m pretty good at judging people, and Walker doesn’t seem the killing type,” Fred said, settling himself into the chair in front of the sheriff’s desk. “What makes you think he killed her?”

  “He told me she ran off in the middle of the night, but when I checked the closet, all her clothes were still there, as were all her shoes, hats, and gloves,” Griff said. “I have a sister, and I know a woman doesn’t go anywhere without those things.”

  “That does sound fishy,” Freddie said. “I remember now, didn’t you tell me Walker had dug a large plot in the back of the house just before she went missing?”

  “That’s right, and not a week later he built a shed over the top of it. I’d love to tear it down and see what’s under it,” Griff said. “He never mourned or even looked heartbroken.”

  “It’s been months—what’s brought this all to the surface now?” Freddie asked.

  “The gardener, Jake Haskell, came in yesterday with her wedding ring. He claims he found it near the new shed,” Griff said. “That’s what brought the case to the front and forward in my head. I know Walker killed her, and Helen’s father has written, ordering me to investigate him further.”

  “I’m glad I’m retiring. I loved the job when it consisted of chasing bank robbers and calming saloon fights, but detective work isn’t my thing,” Freddie said, standing and walking toward the door. “I’m going on my rounds.”