A Bride for Travis

  A Bride for Travis

  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 © 2018 Barbara Goss

  All Rights Reserved

  Kindle Edition

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  THE END

  Chapter One

  1887—Denver, Colorado

  Lydia Hathaway gazed through the window. Between the drops of rain she recognized the buggy that brought new children to the home when it stopped in front of the lane below. It was always a sad occasion to watch the frightened children being led into the foreboding building with its red brick façade and large windows.

  Harvey, the school’s caretaker, reached into the carriage to pull out a little girl who looked about four or five years of age. The child looked up at the building, stopped suddenly, and refused to walk further. Harvey tried to pull her by the arm, but the girl wouldn’t budge.

  Lydia slung a cape over her shoulders and flew down the stairs to the double front doors. Once outside, she pulled her hood up and sprinted toward Harvey and the frightened little girl.

  She knelt gingerly on the wet path. “Welcome to Denver Orphan’s Home,” she said with the most welcoming smile she could manage.

  The little girl flew into Lydia’s arms and clung to her with all her might.

  Lydia held the girl to her, rubbed her back, and spoke softly. “It’s all right. This is a lovely place, and I’ll introduce you to some other little girls your age. We have a playroom with loads of toys and activities. I think you’ll love it here.”

  The little girl looked up at her and with a tearful smile said, “Come with me?”

  “Of course, I will.” Lydia nodded at Harvey who handed her the paperwork. She took the child’s hand and led her into the building and out of the rain.

  The child grasped Lydia’s hand so tightly it nearly went numb—the poor girl was petrified.

  The normal procedure for new children was to go to the bathing room before seeing the nurse to be sure there were no head lice or evidence of illness. Lydia walked the girl to the bathing room.

  She knelt and looked into the frightened, big, blue eyes of the dark-haired child. “We need to give you a bath and a physical. It’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Will you stay with me?” she asked.

  Staying with the child was not the usual routine, but certainly Mr. Stanton or Mrs. Hildebrand wouldn’t mind. Her work as teacher of Bible lessons was finished for the day, and she had some time before her outing with John Carrington. “If you’d like,” she said as she entered the bathing room.

  The supervisor of the bathing room was sitting at a desk doing paperwork and she stood when they arrived. “Who do we have here?” she asked kindly.

  “Can you tell Mrs. Worth your name?” Lydia asked her.

  The child hid her face behind Lydia’s skirt and mumbled, “Molly.”

  “Molly. What a pretty name,” Velma Worth said as she wrote the name down. "What’s your last name?”

  Molly gave Lydia a questioning look.

  “Tell her the rest of your name, Molly.”

  The child shrugged.

  Lydia handed the paperwork to Velma.

  “Ah, Molly Landon. Welcome, Molly.”

  Velma helped Molly undress, but she refused to loosen her hold on Lydia who was puzzled by her devotion. Lydia stayed with her while she was being bathed and then through her physical.

  Velma usually took the child at this point, but once the nurse had cleared her, Lydia told Velma she’d take over to get Molly settled. Lydia led her to the girls’ wing on the third floor. She opened the door to see twelve neatly-made beds in a row. One bed had a sign on the headboard that read: “vacant.”

  “I guess this will be your bed, Molly.”

  Molly grabbed Lydia’s arm with both hands. “No, I want to stay with you.”

  Lydia felt at a loss as to what to do next. She glanced around and saw that the room was empty. She surmised that the girls must be down on the first floor in the playroom.

  “Let’s go downstairs and meet some of the other children.”

  Molly's interest piqued when they reached the playroom. She gazed around at the toys and the other children. The boys mostly played on the left side of the room where the wooden trucks and cars were, and the girls played on the right with the dolls and teddy bears.

  Lydia led Molly to a group of three girls about the same age. “This is Molly. She’s just arrived. I hope you girls will make her feel welcome.”

  One girl immediately took Molly’s hand and led her to a large shelf filled with dolls of all shapes and sizes. “I’ll play dolls with you. My name is Martha.”

  Molly looked back at Lydia who nodded, then both girls took hold of dolls, and sat in the corner. They seemed to be getting along, so Lydia tiptoed to the door.

  “Don’t go!” Molly shouted.

  Lydia knelt near Molly. “My workday is over, and I’m going home. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”

  The child’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Lydia thought about Molly all through her dinner with John.

  “Lydia? Lydia!” John had said this so loud, several others in the café turned to look at them.

  Lydia startled out of her daze. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

  “I asked if you wanted dessert.”

  “No, I think I’ll pass. Thank you for the delightful dinner.”

  “You're welcome. I just wish you were here for it.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “You’ve been staring into space for the whole meal. What’s wrong?”

  John, a bookkeeper at the bank, had been courting her for over a year. He still hadn’t proposed, though she wasn’t sure she’d accept if he did. He wasn’t a bad-looking fellow, with his sandy-colored hair, wire-rimmed spectacles, and neatly trimmed mustache. It was his aloofness that made her question how she really felt about him.

  “I was thinking about the newest child to arrive today. She was so frightened. She took one look at me and clung to me like I was a relative or something. I was quite flattered.”

  John grimaced. “How unpleasant. You were flattered by a little urchin grabbing you?”

  “She’s a darling child. I’d love to have one like her one day.”

  “Children are a nuisance.”

  “Really? Then I suppose you should never marry, since most women would love to have children.”

  “That’s why I’ll never marry unless I find a woman who doesn’t want a houseful of brats.”
>
  “John, you can’t mean that.”

  “I assure you, I do. I’m the oldest of twelve siblings. It was quite an experience, and it was enough for a lifetime.”

  “I’m sorry. As you know, I’ve never had any brothers or sisters, having grown up an orphan myself.”

  “I assumed you felt as I did. Working with the ragamuffins all day, I thought you wouldn't want to come home to more of them.”

  “Shall we go?” she said standing.

  John was usually a pleasant companion and conversationalist, though Lydia was a bit surprised at his attitude toward children. If he proposed tomorrow, she wouldn't accept. In fact, his attitude was enough to end the relationship, since it had no chance of going any further.

  How she yearned to have a family of her own.

  Lydia shared a small cottage, with Leah Cripps, the head cook at the orphan home, and it was just two blocks away from their job. It was perfect for them, because they could go to and from work on foot, without having to buy a horse and carriage.

  She hung her wet umbrella in the laundry room and joined Leah in the small sitting room. “What did you bring home for our supper?” Lydia asked.

  Leah looked up and smiled. “Two slices of chicken pot pie.”

  “My favorite.”

  Lydia told Leah all about the new orphan that had arrived that day.

  “I’ll make sure she gets a shiny apple tomorrow.”

  “Oh, she’ll love that. There’s something about this child…” Lydia shrugged. “I can’t explain it, but my heart went immediately out to her. I’m not sure if it was because she clung to me or if it was something else. Do you think God is speaking to me?”

  “Maybe, but for what reason?”

  Lydia tapped her chin. “I don’t know. It’s just that while I love all the children at the home, this one is somehow special. I can’t explain it.”

  “Maybe it’s time you started your own family.”

  “I’d love to do that, but my only prospect is John, and he doesn’t care for children.”

  “What? That’s outrageous.” Leah frowned. “He must have a cold heart, Lydia.”

  “That’s what I’ve been thinking.”

  “You could just adopt a child. We could make room for one here. We could put a small bed in your room.”

  Lydia thought about that. “Do you think I could adopt a child?”

  “Why not? You have a good job and a decent place to live. Heaven knows every child at the home would love to be adopted by you.” Leah paused and said, “Or by anyone, for that matter,” under her breath.

  Lydia spent the evening thinking about adoption and wishing that it were a possibility. Why shouldn't she do it? She’d see Mr. Stanton, the director, tomorrow. Which one of the children would she choose? There were several infants, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle a child so young, and she had no experience with babies, besides. No, she wanted Molly. She felt her strong reaction to the child was no coincidence—God was providing for her needs.

  Lydia knocked lightly on Mr. Stanton’s office door. “Come in,” he ordered in his usual, imperious manner.

  She slipped silently into the room and took a seat in front of his desk.

  “Do you have a problem, Miss Hathaway?”

  She paused to study the man, thinking how to best bring up the subject. Charles Stanton was in his fifties, partially bald, and not to describe him as fat, but the buttons on his shirt looked about ready to pop at any moment.

  “Would it be possible for me to adopt one of our children?” she asked.

  Stanton’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his chair. “Well, now, we’re always looking for parents for our residents, however, the law does have requirements. There must be two parents, suitable housing, and decent earnings. And since you aren’t married, I’m afraid you don’t qualify.”

  Lydia's heart felt like it had dropped to her toes. “I have a roommate, a nice cottage, and a good income.”

  “I’m sorry. Our adoptees must go to a home with two parents.”

  “I have a prospective fiancé,” she offered guiltily, knowing it was not quite the truth.

  “Well, when you marry him, we’ll look at your qualifications again. I sincerely hope you do marry, for I always feel blessed when one of our children finds a good home. We haven’t had an adoption in quite a while.”

  Lydia stood. “Thank you, sir. I’ll come back when I qualify.”

  Lydia was pleased to see Molly was doing well when she checked on her that morning during breakfast. She sat at the table, chatting with her friend, Martha. Molly’s eyes lit up when she saw Lydia, and she ran to meet her, taking her hand.

  “You kept your promise,” she said.

  Lydia knelt to Molly’s level. “I always try to keep them. You’ll be coming to my Bible study this morning. I’ll put you in the front row.”

  Molly smiled. “Martha, too?”

  “Of course.”

  The children had free time after the Bible study, and something urged Lydia to hold Molly back for a few moments. She didn’t quite know why, but she prayed silently for something she might say to her to keep their relationship flourishing.

  Molly released her new friend, Martha’s, hand. “Pick the doll with the red dress for me?” Martha nodded and ran to catch up with the others. Molly came over to sit beside Lydia.

  Lydia was at a loss for words, but she finally said, “Tell me about your family.”

  Molly pouted a bit before saying, “My papa hurt my mama and the doctor took her away. The police came for me when she went to Heaven, and Papa was taken to jail. My two brothers ran away.” Molly cocked her head at Lydia. “You look like my mama. She had brown hair and green eyes, too.”

  Lydia tried to catch her breath. Her father had hurt her mother—how sad. The child related her experience well, seeming intelligent for her age.

  Molly had said she looked like her mama. That explained why Molly had clung to her the moment she’d seen her. Poor child. It was then that Lydia made up her mind: she’d find a husband and adopt Molly. She wasn’t sure how, but she would find a way. Since John was completely out of the picture, she’d break her relationship off with him immediately. But where would she find a suitable husband?

  “How old are you, Molly?”

  The child shrugged. “I think the nurse said I was five.”

  “You’re a very bright child for five-years-old.” Lydia stood. “I’ll walk you to the playroom.”

  That night at supper, Lydia told Leah all about her conversation with Molly.

  “Oh, Lydia, that’s so sad.”

  “Indeed. I want to adopt her, but Mr. Stanton said I need a husband.” She let out a loud sigh. “What can I do?”

  “Hmm,” Leah said, “I have an idea. I’m not promising anything, but...well, we’ll see.”

  Chapter Two

  1886 ~ Abilene, Kansas

  Travis Bentley’s stomach twitched and his temples pulsated. “Are you sure there are no other passengers disembarking in Abilene?”

  The train conductor shook his head. “All the remaining passengers have tickets for Hays, Salina, and Denver. I’ve checked their tickets.”

  “Thank you.” Travis turned and walked away from the train platform. He gave the depot another scan before getting into his buggy and heading for home. What could have happened to Myra Burchfield, his mail order bride?

  Travis handed the reins of his buggy to Gideon and marched into the house. He threw his hat on the table and sat holding his head in his hands.

  His sister, Virginia, walked into the room, “Well, where is she?”

  “She wasn’t on the train.”

  “Oh, dear. What will you do now?”

  “I’m going to telegraph her tomorrow. That’s about all I can do.”

  “I hope she didn’t cash in the ticket and do a runner.”

  Travis grit his teeth. “Virginia, please. I don’t need to hear that now.”

  “
I’m sorry,” she said. “On a happier note, I’ve made your favorite for supper: pot roast and buttermilk biscuits.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “I might as well go along on the cattle drive next month since I have no plans for the immediate future.”

  “I’ll let Gideon and Peter know and happily let Simon off the hook. He wasn’t looking forward to taking your place.”

  “I don’t think you were too keen on it either.”

  Virginia stood. “No, I rather enjoy Simon’s company.”

  “Has he proposed yet?”

  “No, but I think his not having to go on the cattle drive might speed things up.”

  “He’s a good man. Our parents would have approved. If he comes to me asking for your hand, I might just say yes.”

  Virginia swatted his shoulder lightly. “You'd better, or I’ll cut your serving of pot roast and limit your biscuits to just one.”

  Every telegram Travis sent to Myra went unanswered. Finally, he sent the telegram to Fort Wayne, Indiana's Sheriff, and he answered saying that she’d gone to Kansas to get married. If that was true, then where was she?

  Travis checked the train depot each day for the next two weeks, whenever a train was scheduled to arrive from the east, but it seemed as if Myra had simply disappeared.

  Travis busied himself with his ranch duties. Running a large cattle ranch was no easy chore, but his staff of eight men helped with his over three hundred head of cattle.

  Simon McCabe had asked him for his sister’s hand in marriage, and he’d given his approval. Soon, he’d be living in the large home by himself. His mail order bride had most likely either cashed in his ticket or met someone else along the way and gotten off the train. This was his second attempt at bringing a mail order bride to Abilene. Since he’d been disappointed twice, he'd resolved himself to living alone and tending his cattle ranch. He was only twenty-nine and had all the time in the world to reconsider and marry, but he wouldn't send for another bride. If the good Lord wanted him married, he’d send him a bride. The train tickets had cost him plenty, and he wouldn't be bilked again.