It was just past lunch time the following day when Beatrice heard a knock at the door. Arthur was off in his office, so she went to the door and asked, “Who is it?” She carefully kept the door shut, just as Arthur had insisted.

“I’m Millie Bing, Reverend Bing’s younger sister. I’ve brought you some muffins to welcome you to Colorado. May I come in?” The other woman’s voice was very sweet.

Beatrice was excited to have someone—anyone—pay her a visit. As much as she enjoyed her time with Arthur, she needed female companionship as well. She opened the door wide, smiling at the girl. She wished her new dress was finished, but she was sure Millie had heard the whole story, so what did it matter that she didn’t look perfect?

“It’s so nice to meet you, Millie! I’m Beatrice Hart…err…Jameson. I wonder if that name will ever just roll off my tongue.” Beatrice held her hand down at her side, using it to hide the worst of the tears in the dress.

Millie laughed, a sweet laughed that filled the house. “I’ve been told that women eventually adjust to their new name after marriage, but it’s not easy.”

“Well, I certainly think that will be the case with me.” Beatrice realized she was still blocking the doorway. “Come in. I want to hear everything there is to know about you.”

“No, you first.” Millie stepped inside, following Beatrice into the kitchen. “I’m very sorry about your parents.”

Beatrice frowned, nodding. “I’m still not sure how I survived.” She wanted to tell her about the woman she’d seen, but she was afraid Millie would think she was crazy. She needed friends too much to be willing to risk sounding insane. “I felt like I had to get out of the wagon. I called for my father to stop the horses, and he did. I said I’d walk behind for a while, and the next thing I knew the wagon had tumbled into a ravine.”

“And you weren’t hurt at all? It sounds like God wanted you to live, so He saved you.”

“But why would He save me and not my parents?” That was at the core of what bothered her. Shouldn’t God have saved her parents as well?

Millie shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t understand God’s ways all the time, but I’m sure there was a good reason.”

“I miss them,” Beatrice said softly, wishing she had the right words to express how deeply she felt about it.

“I understand. What was life like for you back where you came from? I asked my brother…he knew it was an M state, but that’s all he remembered.”

“I come from Missouri. I was a schoolteacher there, but when my father caught gold fever, he thought I needed to come along as well. So here I am.” Beatrice didn’t add that she’d resented her father for tearing her away from her life, for it wouldn’t do any good to speak ill of the dead. She found she was still angry with him for her mother’s death, even though her anger did no good at all.

“I’m so sorry. And now you’re here in a place where you know no one, and it’s not really safe to go outside alone. I wish I could say differently, but Creede is not a good place to be.” Millie sighed heavily. “I would love to get more involved in my brother’s ministry, but for the most part, I need to stay home and keep his house. There are bad men everywhere, but Creede seems to have more than its share.”

“Well, you can visit me anytime you’d like. I would love to have a friend here.”

“I’d have come yesterday, but one of the ladies in our congregation died. She was giving birth to her fifth child, and something went wrong. I was cooking for them.”

“That’s so sad! I’d like to pray for them. What are their names?”

“Lucy is the mother who died in childbirth. Royce is her widower, trying his best to cope with five children. I don’t know how he’s going to do it.”

Beatrice shook her head. “I can’t even imagine.”

Millie swiped at a tear. “Well, let me just say that I’m glad to have a friend here. There are some ladies who I spend time with after church on Sundays, but it’s usually while we quilt or do some other thing together. There’s no just sitting around and talking for the sheer joy of having a friend.”

“Well, then it’s time there is.” Beatrice leaned forward and took Millie’s hand in hers. “I’ve had very few close female friends over the years, but I can see you’re going to be one.”

“I feel the same about you. I’m so glad you’re here now.” Millie smiled. “Will I see you in church on Sunday?”

“I don’t think so. After losing my parents on that narrow path, I don’t want to drive it just yet. I hope that eventually I’ll find the courage within me, but I watched their wagon tumble into the ravine. I can’t get the sight of it out of my head.” Beatrice hated keeping herself from doing things she should do, but at least for now, it was what needed to happen.

“Well, then I’ll have to come visit you as often as I can.”

“I like that idea. A lot!” Beatrice jumped to her feet. “Where are my manners? Would you like some coffee or tea?” Maybe if she plied her new friend with refreshments, she would visit her more often.

“Tea would be wonderful, if you don’t mind. And we can have muffins with it.”

“That sounds absolutely fantastic. Would you mind if I sewed while we chat? I want to finish a dress today. This is all I have. All of my clothes were in the wagon, and Arthur said it wouldn’t be safe to go try to retrieve my things.” When she’d left Missouri, her grandmother had pressed a locket into her hand. It had belonged to her mother before her. Of all the things that were gone, the locket was what she regretted the most. Even more than her books.

“Oh, please! If you have any mending, I’d be happy to help you out with it.”

“No, please just sit and talk to me. I’m so happy for the company, I can’t even express it.”

“You don’t have to express it. As an unmarried female in this area, I understand. I mean I know you’re married, but it’s not the same as if you married a man you’d been courting for a while. You married because there was no other option, and you were in a pickle. My brother told me all about it.”

“He was kind to marry us immediately. Arthur suggested I go home with him and live with the two of you, because that wouldn’t be improper, but it wouldn’t have been right for your brother and I to be alone for so long…and I don’t think I’d have made it over the pass without screaming until he pushed me out of his wagon.”

Millie chuckled. “I’ve never seen Callum do anything of the sort—but I’ve never seen him faced with a woman screaming that much, either. So I suppose it’s possible he’d do just that!”

Beatrice poured the tea into cups and carried them to the table. She set one in front of her new friend and one at a place for herself, then put two small plates on the table. When she’d taken her seat, she reached for one of the muffins. “What kind are they?”

“Strawberry. I prefer to do a mix of blackberries and raspberries, but they’re not in season. But these are still tasty!”

“They sound delicious.” Beatrice bit into one of the muffins. “You’ll have to give me your recipe. As a new wife, I’m trying all sorts of recipes out to make my husband happy.”

“I’d love to share my recipe with you. Callum and I eat them often.” Millie looked around the house. “Are you waiting to make it your own?” The house was obviously decorated by a bachelor.

“Only as long as I have to!” Beatrice shook her head. “I thought it would be more important for me to have dresses than for the windows and table to be clothed to my taste.”

“You have a very good point there. I’m certainly willing to work on a table cloth or curtains while you sew.”

“I couldn’t take advantage of your friendship that way!”

“That’s not taking advantage at all. That’s neighbors helping neighbors. If a new woman moved in next to you and needed help, you’d help her. I can tell you’re that kind of woman.”

Finally, Beatrice nodded. “I’ll fetch the cloth I intend to use. How long will you be in town?”

“Oh, a couple more hours probably. Callum had business here, so I asked if I could come along. He’ll let me know when he’s ready to go back to Bachelor.” When Beatrice handed Millie the fabric, she smiled. “This is lovely. I think it will work beautifully for your kitchen.”

The two of them worked together most of the afternoon, with Beatrice getting up a few times to tend to supper. Arthur came into the kitchen at the end of his shift and looked at Millie in surprise.

“I didn’t know you were here!”

Beatrice smiled at Arthur, so happy to finally have a friend. “She came to bring me muffins, and there are even a couple of them left. We may have eaten some of them this afternoon.” She was bubbling over with excitement over her new friend. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her day.

“May have?” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “In other words, you ate most of them and left the crumbs for me?”

Beatrice laughed. “We left you two whole muffins. You may thank us now.”

Millie looked amused as she watched them. A knock sounded at the door, and she jumped up, laying her sewing on the table. “Thank you for having me, Beatrice. I’m sure that’s Callum.”

Beatrice wiped her hands and walked her friend to the door. “Thank you so much for coming over, and for the muffins. It was lovely to just sit with you and talk.”

“I watched you with Arthur just now. Considering you’ve only known one another for a few days, I can see you’re going to be very happy together.”

Beatrice blushed, glancing back over her shoulder. “I certainly hope so. He’s a good man.”

“He is. You chose well…or God chose well for you, as I tend to think.” Millie quickly hugged Beatrice. “I will see you again soon!”

After Millie left, Beatrice hurried back to the kitchen. “I’m so excited she came to visit today. It was nice to have someone to talk to.”

“You can’t talk to me?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I can…but I have to be so careful not to use a word that’s longer than one syllable…” It was all she could do not to giggle as she said the words, wondering where this teasing nature had come from. It wasn’t something that had ever reared its head back in Missouri.

He laughed. “You’re a brat, Mrs. Jameson.”

She shrugged. “I guess I can be. I can’t remember the last time I had a chance for my playful side to come out. It’s been all work for the last year for sure.”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t had a chance to be playful either. This place doesn’t lend itself to lightheartedness.”

“Then it’s our job to make it better. What can we do?”

He stared at her, aghast. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if everyone in town is so unhappy, what would fix that? I could bake cookies and pass them out as people walked past our door. What else?”

He shook his head emphatically. “I’m not against making people happy, but it’s not safe here. Until we know where those two women disappeared to, you’re going to be only out with me. I thought we’d discussed that.”

“We did, but I really hate the idea of not being able to be independent. Are you sure there’s no other way?” She badly wanted to be free to leave the house during the day while he worked. She couldn’t even do their food shopping without him!

“I’m sure. I’m sorry, but to keep you safe, I have to keep you inside when I’m working. I would be willing to go out with you before work if you wanted to hand out cookies, though. Would that make you happy?”

She thought about it for a moment. “It might. What if Millie came and she and I handed out the cookies.”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m fine if you want to be her friend, but I don’t want you going out with her without someone there to protect you.”

She nodded slowly. “All right. I guess you’ll do it with me. Maybe on Monday mornings? Because everyone hates Mondays.”

Arthur smiled at that. “Do you hate Mondays?”

“Not at all. I loved them. That’s the day the school week begins. When I was teaching school, I lived for Mondays!”

“Well, now you can live for Mondays because you get to hand out cookies.”

Beatrice smiled at him. “Thank you for not telling me my ideas are stupid.”

“I would never tell you that. Never.”

“You’re a good husband to me, Arthur. Thank you.”

“After supper, we can read more of Tom Sawyer. I’ll read to you while you finish your dress.”

“I would thoroughly enjoy that.” Beatrice grinned. She would love it if he kissed her again, but she didn’t dare say so. Was it polite to flirt with your husband that way? Or was it too forward?

“Good. That’s what we’ll do, then.” He watched her as she efficiently served their meal. He could see her as a teacher, sitting in the front of a classroom. He suspected that children enjoyed it when she taught them. He knew he would have had a crush on the schoolteacher. There was no doubt in his mind. “Did boys ever have a crush on you when you taught them?”

Beatrice blushed, looking at him questioningly. “What makes you ask that?”

“Well, I know if I’d been your student, I’d have been hanging on your every word. I’d probably have carved our initials into my desk as well.”

She put her hands on her hips, stopping her work for a moment. “You were one of those boys who liked to vandalize the school desks? Shame on you, Arthur!”

He chuckled. “I never once actually did it, but if you’d been standing in front of me every day, I don’t know that I’d have been able to stop myself.”

She shook her head at him, moving around him to put their drinks on the table. “It’s time to eat. If you can keep yourself from carving our initials into the kitchen table, you’re free to eat with me.”

He waited until her hands were empty before grabbing her about the waist and pulling her close to him. “I wanted to kiss you when I came into the kitchen earlier, but you had a friend with you.”

She grinned at him. “You know we’re allowed to kiss. We are married.” She raised her lips to his, pleased that he wanted to touch her just as much as she wanted to be touched

“I know.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. “Hello, wife.”

“Hello.” She was slightly out of breath. Every time he touched her, she was amazed by her reaction to him.

“I’m starving. Why don’t you let me eat, you crazy woman?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, but took her place at the table. “I’ll let you eat, but you need to stop grabbing me in the kitchen. This is my work place, you know.”

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I hope I never get so old that I don’t have a desire to grab you in the kitchen.”

She grinned at him, surprised at how sweet he was being. They’d married for a very specific reason, but both of them seemed to have forgotten it. “Will you pray already?”

He laughed. “Yes, I’ll pray!”

She finished the dress while they were sitting together in the parlor that night. For a moment she thought about jumping up and trying it on so she could show him that she didn’t always have dirty, ripped clothing, but she decided to wait. While he was at work the next day, she would take a bath, wash her hair, and put on the new dress. Then she would look good to him.

After he’d finished reading, he looked over at her. “Did you get the dress done?”

She nodded. “I did. I think I’m pleased with it.”

“As long as it’s not torn, I think you’ll look great.”

She made a face. “I wouldn’t make a dress torn, silly man.”

He pulled her across the sofa to him. “I’m considering this time our courting period. I know we were supposed to do that before we got married, but I think we can both use a little sparking.”

“I think I like that idea a lot.” Beatrice had never been courted. She’d always been the smart girl, and the boys hadn’t been terribly interested in her. Now she was glad, because he was the first man to show her affection. No woman should ever touch a man she wasn’t going to spend her life with.

“Good!” He lowered his mouth to hers again. This time it lasted a little longer than the first. The press of his lips to hers left her feeling a bit dizzy. “I like kissing you, Beatrice.”

She smiled. “Good, because I like being kissed.” Her hands rested on his shoulders. “It’s not wrong of me to tell you that, is it?”

“Of course not. You can tell me anything. We’re married after all.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way, and wasn’t sure if she was ready to. Some things felt easier to talk to another lady about. She’d see, though. She’d definitely see.

* * *

While Arthur was at work the following day, Beatrice took a long, hot bath before carefully putting on her new dress. She’d made it the same size as usual, but it was a bit big in the waist, which made sense. She’d done a lot of walking to get to Colorado, and not all of it had been easy.

She patiently brushed her hair dry in front of the stove, making the blond curls shine. Looking at herself in the mirror above the dresser in the bedroom, she carefully twisted her hair atop her head, trying to look her very best. Her sweet husband had only ever seen her at her worst…yet still, he’d married her.

She was careful not to get her dress dirty as she put the finishing touches on supper, planning to surprise him with her new clothes and a fine meal.

Arthur walked into the house, sniffing deeply. “My beautiful wife has outdone herself with supper again, I can tell!”

Beatrice smoothed her skirt and hurried out into the parlor to greet him. “I did my best.”

“You always do!” He looked her up and down with a smile. “You look particularly beautiful this evening. You’ve always looked lovely, but tonight…I swear it seems like an angel has come down from heaven to greet me.”

She laughed, moving close to him and raising her lips to his. “You make me almost believe that I really am beautiful.”

“In my eyes, you’re everything.” His kiss was tender and sweet all at once. “Now feed me, woman!”

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s my cooking you think is beautiful. Not me.”

“That’s not true at all! It’s both!”

* * *

Through the weekend, Beatrice had a good time getting to know her husband. She and Arthur went on a picnic Sunday afternoon, and she couldn’t have been happier. Still, the weight of her parents’ deaths rested on her shoulders, and she felt guilty for being happy.

After their picnic, she saw the woman who had talked to her and told her to get out of the wagon just before it tumbled over the side of the ravine. “I’ll be right back,” she told Arthur, hurrying over to where the woman was standing watching her.

“Who are you?” she asked, needing to know how this woman had known to save her. She’d been haunted by the memory of her, constantly wondering who had helped her. “How did you know to tell me to get out of the wagon?” Come to think of it, Beatrice hadn’t seen the other woman get out of the wagon to save herself.

“I’m a friend,” the stranger said softly. “You may call me whatever you like.”

“I can’t just name you. That would be very strange. Why are you here?” The woman seemed to be following her. Beatrice needed to know who she was.

“I want you to know that you don’t have to feel guilty about not mourning your parents more. They understand that you have to move on with your life.”

Beatrice bit her lip. “But I should be spending more time thinking about them. They died, and I got married the same day. How can that be right?”

The woman put a hand on her arm. “It is right. I led you to Arthur, because I knew that he was the one you needed. The one who could make you happy.”

“Why didn’t you at least try to save my parents?” That was the question that was really burning a hole in Beatrice’s brain. Why couldn’t all three of them have survived?

“Because it was their time to go. Not yours.” The woman patted her arm. “The angel of death was there for them. You saw him standing over them in the ravine. There was nothing I could have done to save them when they were meant to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“You know where. Don’t ask me silly questions.”

“Will I see you again?” Beatrice asked. Somehow, she felt connected to this woman. She didn’t want to be a bother, but she needed to have her in her life—at least for a while.

“Yes, you’ll see me. I’m assigned to you until we know you’ll be happy.”

“You’re not sure? I thought you said that Arthur was the one who would make me happy? If you know that, then how do you not know if I’ll be happy?”

The woman frowned for a moment, as if searching for the right words to explain things. “We know Arthur has the ability to make you happy. You will make choices, though, and those decisions will determine if true happiness is possible for you.”

“What kinds of choices?”

“That’s not for me to say. I’m sorry, Beatrice, there are some things that I can’t help you with. You’ll have to figure them out on your own.”

“How do you know my name?” Beatrice asked, her face confused. “I know I never told you.” The woman became more mysterious with every word she said.

“You didn’t have to. You’re my assignment.” The woman patted her arm and turned to walk away. “You should go be with Arthur now. He’s a good man, and he’s the right man for you.”

“How can you be so sure?” Beatrice called after her. No one could guarantee that someone was right for someone else. Only God himself had those answers.

The woman smiled and raised a hand in a wave before disappearing behind a tree. She was gone. Beatrice rushed after her, needing just a few more questions answered, but the woman was gone. Completely and utterly gone. Could she have just disappeared the way she’d seemed to appear in the wagon? Who was she? Why was Beatrice her assignment?

Beatrice sighed. She wouldn’t be getting her answers that day. She saw that Arthur was standing up beside their picnic blanket, seeming to look for her. She rushed back toward him, determined to say nothing about the woman she’d been speaking to. Could she be losing her mind after all?