Beatrice Hart was tired, sore…and most importantly, she was bored. She’d been in their bumpy wagon for hours today, and walked beside it for hours and hours the past few weeks. Her father had decided he was going to make millions as a gold miner in Creede, Colorado, and at eighteen, Beatrice had no beau, so she was going with her parents. She didn’t really think much good would come from chasing a fortune, but she had no say in the matter.

She sat in the back of the wagon while her father drove. She’d been allowed to ride for a bit today, but only because she had twisted her ankle the night before. Usually she walked. He’d said today was the day they would reach their new home. It had been all she could do to keep from saying, “Finally!”

Beatrice loved her parents and respected them both, but she would rather be anywhere in the world than on this wild-goose chase to find a fortune. She looked down at the book she clutched in her hands, wishing she could concentrate on it. Of course, she’d read it so many times she already had it memorized, so perhaps that was keeping her from paying attention as she should. That and worries about what her new home would be like.

She looked up from her book, expecting to see the canvas cover of the wagon and nothing else. Instead of seeing the rough fabric, she saw a woman sitting across from her as pretty as you please. “Who are you?” How could someone have gotten in there? She’d never seen this woman before in her life.

“Get out. Quick.” The woman was waving frantically at the back flap. “Tell your parents you need to relieve yourself. Anything!”

Beatrice stared at the woman, trying to figure out not only who she was, but how she’d gotten into the wagon. “Why?”

“Just do it! Please!” The woman’s voice was urgent, as if it was a matter of life and death.

Beatrice felt herself stirred to activity by the woman’s words. She didn’t know who she was, or why she was there, but she felt the urgency in her voice. “Dad, stop the wagon!” She didn’t know why, but she had to obey. She felt compelled to do what the stranger asked of her.

The wagon slowly drew to a halt and she jumped down from the back, landing gingerly on her already abused ankle. “I’m going to walk for a bit.”

“What about your ankle?” her mother asked, looking surprised. “It was very swollen last night…I don’t think you should be walking.” Beatrice wasn’t surprised by her mother’s concern. She’d always thought of others first.

“Just for a little while,” Beatrice told her. She realized how narrow the path was. “I’ll walk behind. If you get too far ahead of me, I’ll find you in Creede.”

Creede, Colorado. It wasn’t the place she wanted to spend her life, but she had little choice. Hopefully her father would get over his gold bug quickly.

As she walked, she daydreamed as she always did, thinking about her future. The pain in her ankle wasn’t quite as bad as it had been that morning, and she tried to push it to the back of her mind.

In her dreams, she was always married to a kind man who loved her cooking—and more importantly, loved her beyond belief. She saw herself with a houseful of children, playing games with them, and teaching them to love reading the same way she did.

As she daydreamed, she heard a scream and watched as the wagon fell off the trail and down into a deep ravine. She cried out, calling for her parents, but the woman appeared again, shaking her head.

“They’re gone, Beatrice. You’ll have to continue on without them.” She announced the words in the same voice she’d have used to tell her it was time for supper.

“I have to try!” Beatrice hurried toward the ravine, determined to do something, anything that would bring her parents back. She could see a dark shadowy figure down in the ravine moving toward the wagon. “Who is that? What’s he doing?”

“That’s Death. He’s taking your parents to their reward.”

“No! They can’t be gone yet!”

The stranger caught her arms, keeping her from plunging to her own death beside her parents. “There’s nothing that can be done. Nothing.”

Beatrice stared at the woman. “They’re the only people I know in the whole western half of the country! They’re my parents!” She was too shocked and horrified to even cry. “Why didn’t you save them, too?” How could anyone have thought saving her and letting her parents die was the right thing to do?

The woman shook her head, looking sad. “It was my mission to save you, not them.”

“Why?” Her parents were so much more important than she could ever be. All of their belongings, all of her money, had just fallen into the ravine with them. What could she possibly do without them? How would she survive?

“It’s not mine to question why. I just follow orders.” She put her arm around Beatrice and walked on, past the wagon down the side of the mountain. “Come with me. We have to get to Creede on time.”

“I don’t know who you are or what you want, but you let my parents die! How can I trust you?” All at once, the tears coursed down her cheeks and sobs wracked her body.

The woman looked at her sadly. “You must.”

Having nowhere else to go, Beatrice followed the stranger, but she didn’t trust her. Not one little bit.

An hour passed and she limped along, the stranger oddly silent at her side. Then another. And then another. It was nearing sundown when she limped into Creede, Colorado, wondering if she would ever be able to smile again. Her dress—her only dress—was torn and dirty. Her ankle hurt, but it was nothing to how much her heart hurt. She would give anything for the numbness she’d felt when her parents had first fallen to their deaths.

She stopped and sat down on a bench, refusing to go even a step further. Why should she? There was no place to go, no people to see. She didn’t even have a change of clothes!

Beatrice buried her face in her hands and cried. What was she supposed to do now?

“Are you all right?”

Beatrice looked up and saw a kind-looking man in his mid-twenties. He was handsome in a way that made her heart beat faster, and he was looking at her with a helpful expression. Beatrice shook her head, unsure what to say.

The man sat beside her—where had the woman gone? —and he took her hand in his. She was shocked for a moment at the forward gesture, then took the comfort she could. “Do you have somewhere to go?”

She shook her head again. “Nowhere.” Her parents didn’t have a house they’d planned to move to. They were going to set up a tent outside town. It had been a foolhardy plan, but now no one was looking for them.

“Where are your parents?”

At the question—asked in such a kind voice—she turned to him and buried her face in his shoulder. “D-dead,” was all she could manage before the tears started up again.

The man frowned. “So who did you come to town with? This is not a good place for a young lady to be alone.”

She got herself under control enough to answer. “They died on the way into town. I walked after they fell down into the ravine.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He frowned at her, wondering how to phrase what he needed to offer. “I could let you stay with me…but if I did, you’ll be a fallen woman. I’m a bachelor, and I don’t have anyone who could possibly chaperone us.” He wished he could keep her, though. She was a beautiful young woman, despite the dirt on her face.

“Is there no one else?” she asked, her voice small. How was she going to make it through life with no parents and nowhere at all to stay?

He shook his head. “There’s no one in this whole blasted town I’d trust with a young lady.” He bit his lip. “Wait. The reverend from Bachelor is here today. Maybe he can take you home with him? His sister lives with him, so it would be perfectly acceptable.”

Beatrice got herself together and nodded. “I will meet this reverend. Is he a good man?” She wasn’t sure she could go back down the trail, past the point where her parents had died, but she had to try. They wouldn’t want her to die with them.

“As far as I know, he is.” He held his hand out to her. “Come on.”

“I can’t hold hands with you. I don’t even know your name!” Beatrice couldn’t believe she was worried about social niceties when she wasn’t sure where she’d be laying her head that night.

“My name is Arthur. Arthur Jameson. And you are?”

“Beatrice Hart.”

“Will you walk with me now, Miss Hart?” Arthur asked the question calmly. He wanted to help the young lady, but he wasn’t sure how. The entire town of Creede was unscrupulous. Why, women had even started disappearing around town. No, he couldn’t leave her alone.

Beatrice nodded, but she didn’t take his hand, instead choosing to walk along beside him toward their destination. The man walked across the muddy road to the boardwalk on the other side and stopped, looking both ways. “There he is!” He urged her to follow him as he all but ran through the town to get to the pastor. “Reverend Bing!”

A man who looked to be close to forty stopped and looked over at her. Beatrice thought the man’s eyes were kind. She let Mr. Jameson do the talking for her, though, because she was still quite unable to concentrate on much of anything in her grief.

“This young lady, Beatrice Hart, has just arrived in town. Apparently, her parents were killed on the way in. Is there anything you can do for her, Reverend?”

Reverend Bing looked at Beatrice, his face thoughtful. “This is definitely not the place for a lady alone. If my sister had come with me today, I would take you home with me immediately. She’s not with me, though, so I can’t take you on the drive home to Bachelor. It would be unseemly to be alone together.” He looked as if he wanted to help, but couldn’t find a way.

Beatrice bit her lip, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes again. “I’m not sure what to do, Reverend. I’m completely alone now.” Without his help, she was back to where she’d started. Alone, dirty, and frightened.

The reverend frowned, looking back and forth between Beatrice and Arthur. “I happen to know that Arthur is a good man. I could marry the two of you before I leave Creede.”

Beatrice was shocked at the very suggestion. She couldn’t marry a stranger! “I met him less than fifteen minutes ago, sir. I don’t think that could possibly be the answer.”

Arthur looked at the pretty little girl beside him. Well, at least she’d be pretty if she had her hair fixed or her dress wasn’t torn…or her face wasn’t splotchy from crying. He was just at the point in his life where he was willing to think about marriage. He was a telegraph operator, and he made a good, honest living.

“May I speak to you alone for a moment, Miss Hart?”

The reverend smiled as if he knew exactly what Arthur was up to, and Arthur nodded to him. Beatrice walked a few feet away from the reverend and turned to him, her face perplexed.

“What is it, Mr. Jameson?”

“I know it’s sudden and very bad timing, but a marriage really is the answer. I have no romantic interests at the moment, and I make a good, honest living. I’m a telegraph operator here in Creede. My house is small, but it’s certainly large enough for two people…” Arthur needed her to agree to marry him. Something deep inside him told him that she was his chance for happiness, and he could not let it pass him by.

Beatrice stared at him for a moment, shocked to find that she was considering the offer. “My parents have just died, Mr. Jameson. I believe I would need time to grieve them before…being your wife in every sense of the word.” She blushed as she said it, knowing that she was asking for something very few men would grant her.

He frowned. “I can understand that. How long do you want?”

She shrugged. “I think a six-month morning period would be appropriate, don’t you?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. How about one month.”

“One?” She stared at him, aghast. How could she possibly be ready to fully be his wife in one month? “Three months.”

“Two.”

When he grinned at her, she couldn’t help but smile at his charm. The man was likable, so hopefully love would follow.

“Two it is.” She bit her lip nervously. “I’m afraid I have nothing to my name. My parents and all of our possession went off the trail into a ravine. I happened to be walking behind the wagon and survived the incident unscathed.” She couldn’t help but wonder about the woman who had been beside her for hours, but disappeared as soon as he showed up. Who could she possibly be?

He nodded. “I understand. I presume you have the ability to sew?”

“Absolutely. I’ve been sewing since I was a child.”

“Then we’ll get you some fabric, and you’ll have clothes very soon.” He glanced over his shoulder to see the reverend standing there, waiting for them. “I think we need to marry now. Reverend Bing will want to be back to Bachelor before it’s too dark for him to see the trail.”

She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. “Let’s go get married, then.”

He grinned at her, noting that she didn’t protest this time when he took her hand in his.

* * *

An hour later, Arthur was escorting Beatrice into his home. “I only have one bedroom, but I’ll sleep on the sofa until you’re ready to really be my wife.” He’d foregone kissing her at the wedding ceremony, knowing that he wanted their first kiss to be a private one.

“Thank you for that.” Beatrice looked through the small house, which was attached to the telegraph office. There was a small but serviceable kitchen, a parlor with a sofa and one chair, as well as a low table in front of the sofa, and a bedroom with one bed and a dresser. “This house will do just fine.” As she said the words, she thought back to her daydreams about her future house once she was married. That dream house was in the country, with chickens and cows everywhere. There was even a dog that the children tried to ride. “Do you have a dog?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t. The barking might keep me from being able to take the telegraph messages correctly.”

“I see.” The tears sprang to Beatrice’s eyes yet again. Why was she mourning a dog that only existed in her imagination? “Do you have any books?”

“Yes, I do. I’m an avid reader.” He led her to the parlor, showing her his selection of books against one wall. Did that mean she enjoyed reading as well?

“There are several I’ve not read yet.” She felt a small amount of excitement at the fact that there would be new books for her to read. Beatrice couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with her. It was her wedding day, and the only thing that made her at all happy was the fact that her groom had new books for her.

“I’m glad.” He took her to the kitchen. “Do you cook? I can cook very simple things, but not anything complicated.” He paused, deciding to tell the full truth. “The truth is that I can cook beans and cornbread. Nothing else.”

“I can cook. My mother has been working with me since I was a little girl.” She was excited that there was something she could do to help him after he’d gotten her out of the mess she was in.

“Oh, good. I’ll look forward to eating more than beans and cornbread, then.”

She smiled. “I can certainly do better than that, Mr. Jameson.”

He frowned. “I’m your husband now. Perhaps you should call me Arthur.” He knew she was keeping up the formalities to put a distance between them, but that was the last thing he wanted. He would do everything he could to court her properly in the next two months—and truly for the rest of their lives!

“I will try.”

“The store will be closed for the day, but perhaps we could go there in the morning so you can get some fabric—as well as some more flavorful foods.”

“I would assume you don’t wish me to try to find work? You want me to keep your house?” She wished she’d thought to ask him that before she married him, but she wasn’t sure her answer would have been any different.

“I do want you to keep house. There’s no need for you to work. I make a good salary, and I’m not given to a lavish lifestyle. The only thing I ever splurge on is new books to read.” Did she want to work? He’d always thought most women preferred to be able to stay home and keep house.

She smiled at that. “That is my biggest weakness as well.”

“Then I think we’re a good pair.”

“Would you like me to see if I can find something to make for supper? And maybe we can spend some time talking and getting to know one another after we’ve eaten?”

“I’d like that a lot.” He led her to the kitchen and quickly showed her where he kept everything. “I don’t have much to work with.”

“I’ll figure something out.” She set to work, glad to be able to take her mind off her troubles. Cooking was something she’d always enjoyed, so she gave herself over to it.

When she put two bowls of beans on the table, she apologized. “I can do more with other ingredients.”

He shrugged. “I’m not worried. I had planned to eat beans for supper tonight anyway.”

He took her hand in his, bowing his head for a prayer. “Father in heaven, please help Beatrice settle into life here in Creede. Help her to mourn the loss of her parents, but still be able to make it through her days. I pray this in the name of your Son, Jesus. Amen.”

“Thank you for mentioning me in your prayer.” Beatrice took a bite of the beans, thankful she’d made them plenty of times and knew just the right seasoning to use.

“You’re very welcome. What were you going to be doing in Creede?” It was rare for a young lady to come to the town.

She sighed. “My father wanted to come here to mine for gold. I hate the idea of letting riches rule our thoughts, but I came along because I really had nowhere else to go.” She wished they had done anything but come to Colorado to mine for gold.

“Where are you from?” He knew he was peppering her with questions, but he wanted to get to know her.

“I grew up on a farm in Missouri. Father sold his farm to come out here.”

“Did you go to school there?”

She nodded, her eyes brightening at the topic. “I even taught a couple of terms of school before we headed here. I love teaching.”

“This isn’t a town where there will be much chance of teaching. The families are mostly poor, and they don’t value education the way I wish they would.”

“That’s really sad.” Beatrice shook her head. “I’m sure I’ll have the opportunity to teach our children, then.” As soon as she realized that she’d brought up the subject of them having babies, she blushed. She wanted at least a handful, but she’d take whatever God gave her.

“Do you want a lot of children?” He’d never given himself the time to think about children. He’d been too busy working, and there were few decent women to marry in Creede. He’d been considering sending off for a mail-order bride, but hadn’t let himself think past good meals and a clean home.

She nodded. “I’ve always wanted several. My mother was only able to have me, and I know she’d always wished for more.” If she couldn’t teach, she wanted a whole houseful of children, and she would teach them. She’d do her favorite thing one way or another.

“Tell me about your mother.” He knew she needed to talk about her if it wasn’t too painful to do so.

Beatrice tried to think of her mother through someone else’s eyes. “She was pretty and kind. I think her worst fault was doing what my father said as soon as he told her to do something. She never once questioned his decision to sell off everything and move.”

“And you think that was a flaw?”

She nodded. “I do think women should obey their husbands…but within reason. I don’t think anyone should ever blindly follow another.”

“Seems I’ve found myself a wife with the ability to think for herself.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Absolutely not. I’ve never been the type of man who could let himself fall for a simpering woman. If she thinks I’m as wonderful as some women pretend to think their man is, then she is lacking in common sense. I’m anything but perfect.”

Beatrice laughed softly. “Is that so? Tell me what your biggest fault is.”

“That’s not something you can ask your husband on your wedding day!” Arthur protested, a smile on his face.

“But I already did. So you have to answer me.”

“I do, do I?”

She nodded emphatically. “You do.”

He thought for a moment. “My biggest fault is that I don’t do more to try to change this town.”

“What do you think is wrong with the town?” Beatrice had heard of nothing but how wonderful it would be to live in Creede for their entire journey. What did he know that she didn’t?

“I think the men here live for payday, when they have a chance to go and drink as much liquor as they can. They spend money on booze, women, and gambling. I’ve never been one to partake of those activities, but I’ve not tried to stop others. Maybe I should have.”

“Why?” She knew many men spent their paychecks on those three things, but she wasn’t sure if he objected for religious reasons, or if it was simply because he didn’t like to see people waste money.

“I think the more men who are here and pursue those things, the worse the town gets. Women have begun disappearing…there are two that no one can find. If it was just one, I could chalk it up to marrying and leaving town. But two? No, I’m worried that there’s something sinister going on here in Creede, and I’m not sure what I can do about it.” He hadn’t even mentioned there was a problem until that very moment.

“Is there a sheriff? A marshal?”

“There is. There’s a rumor that he’s on someone’s payroll, but I’m not sure if I should believe that or not. I don’t think he did a good job investigating after the last fire.”

“The last fire? How many fires have there been?” Beatrice was growing more and more worried about the new community she found herself in.

“Creede has almost completely burned to the ground twice now. It’s really not a good place for women or children. I worry about everyone who moves here hoping the town won’t corrupt them. I almost think there’s something evil about this place.” Or someone evil. He had his suspicions about who it was, but he dared not say anything, because the man was powerful.

“Are you being fanciful? Or do you really think it might be evil?”

“I really think it might be evil. I wish I was only being fanciful.” He was afraid to tell even Beatrice who he thought it was for fear she would slip and tell someone else. He had no idea how well she kept secrets.

She thought about the woman who had been in the wagon with her and later disappeared. She hadn’t seemed like she was evil, but maybe she was. She’d certainly let Beatrice’s parents die without trying to stop it.