Warming the Widow’s Frozen Heart (Preview)

Chapter One

Late October, 1868

Ashford, Colorado

“But … you can’t just leave us here on the trail,” Martha Billings said. Panic ripped at her insides.

Her twin boys, Paul and Cass huddled beside her, clinging to her skirt.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Harris, the trail guide said. “But no one has a spare horse to lend or sell you. One horse can’t pull your wagon over the mountains.”

And no one in their small party was willing to give her and her boys a ride. She understood taking on three extra people and having to feed them wasn’t something that could be done lightly. She couldn’t even resent them for not wanting to. Regardless, she had to fight tears that threatened to fall.

A few of the others had climbed down from their wagons when her horse went down, stopping progress, but no one had come to offer assistance.

She glanced at the old buckboard she’d purchased in Laramie. The wagon and the two good horses had taken most of the cash she had with her. Now one of her horses lay dead on the side of the trail.

The horse had fallen shortly after they’d set off for the day and somehow broken his front leg. Harris had put him down to end the animal’s suffering, but now she and her boys were stranded.

“Look, Mrs. Billings, you’re only roughly eight miles from the closest town, Ashford. It’s to the southeast.” He pointed toward the town. “Put your boys on that horse and head that way. You can make it hours before dark even if you go slowly.”

“Maybe I could buy another horse there,” she said with hope filling her voice.

“Ma’am, we don’t have time for delays. We’re doing our best to get over the mountains before the first snowfall. And as you can see,” he said and raised his arm. “It’s already looking like the weather is about to change.”

Indeed, thick gray clouds hung low in the sky.

 “We have to move on. I am sorry,” he said and climbed on his horse and headed to the front of the wagons. Moments later, the wagons rolled forward, leaving them behind.

She stood there trembling, watching the wagons roll further and further away. They’d abandoned them without a backwards glance.

The horse snorted and tossed its head at being left alone. It let out a whinny at the departure of the other horses.

“What are we gonna do, Momma?” Paul said in a hushed tone.

“We’re going to be just fine, don’t you boys worry.” She didn’t believe that for a moment. She was all but broke, and now they had to abandon what little they had packed on the wagon to take with them.

Maybe she could sell the horse and get enough to put them up until she could find a job. Yes, that’s what she would do. She had to take care of her boys no matter what. Surely someone in town would hire her. She was good at cooking and cleaning. She wasn’t too proud to refuse that kind of work.

“Come on, boys. Let me gather some of our clothes. That’s all we can take.” She did her best to keep her voice from betraying the fear gnawing at her insides. 

“Can we come back for our stuff later?” Cass said.

“Honey, the first person that finds our wagon will probably ransack it. I doubt there’d be much to come back for.” She hurriedly filled a valise with some clothing for the boys and herself and then unharnessed the horse except for the bridle. The lines were much too long for riding. 

She had a large knife in her cooking utensils. She took it and sawed on the leather until she cut the lines down to reins. She knotted them and put them over the horses head.

“Okay, boys, come here.”

The stood beside the horse and gave each of them a leg up. Though they were only five, both knew how to ride well. Their father had taught them to ride as soon as they could sit on a horse and listen to directions. Though she didn’t know how good of a riding horse Jake was. She’d only used him for pulling the wagon. She picked up the valise and grabbed hold of the horse’s rein.

They had eight miles to go and it seemed like it was getting colder. She was in for a long, cold walk. Silently, she gave thanks for the horse so the boys didn’t have to walk. Eight miles was too far for them, but she could do it.

She headed south, leading the horse, who thankfully, seemed perfectly suited for riding. She patted the soft black hair that already showed winter growth.

Martha walked head down against the wind that picked up, blowing across the open land with a nasty bite.

She’d decided to leave Ohio for a fresh start after losing her husband in a mining accident the previous year. It seemed like nothing had gone right from the moment he’d died. Including unwanted, and intimidating attention from her brother-in-law.

And now here they were, stranded in the middle of nowhere. She was only twenty-three, how could things have gone completely wrong for her and her family? She wasn’t a bad person. She’d never done anyone wrong on purpose. Was she being punished for something? If so, she didn’t know what it could be.

She glanced back at the boys. “Are you boys doing okay?”

“Yes, Momma,” Paul said.

“Cass?”

“Fine, Momma,” Cass said.

“You aren’t too cold?”

“No,” Cass said.

Paul shook his head.

“Let me know if you need a rest,” she said.

“We’re fine,” Paul said. “Momma, is it gonna snow?”

She glanced up and surveyed the sky. It was even grayer than before, and it was definitely colder. “I don’t know.”

What if it did? She wasn’t looking forward to trudging through snow. Her feet were already cold inside her boots. Snow would make it so much worse.

She kept going, walking through tall, dead grass. The landscape was barren and unattractive.

A hawk circled overhead, hunting rodents. It called out as if scolding her for having bad judgment.

Coming west had seemed like the solution she needed. She’d been wrong. Now she had nothing but a few changes of clothing and the bag she carried it in. Things couldn’t get a whole lot worse. Could they?

And then to her dismay, fat snowflakes began floating down. They didn’t melt when they hit the ground either. Though she hadn’t thought they would. It was much too cold and so was the ground.

“It’s snowin’,” Cass said.

Terrific. Just what they didn’t need.

“Maybe it won’t snow much,” she said. “It isn’t even late in the year yet.” It was almost November. So it was late enough to expect snow. She’d been foolish to leave with the group on the trip. She hadn’t know that back in Ohio. Life was a tough and heartless teacher. She’d learned that lesson well.

No such luck that it wouldn’t snow much. The big white flakes increased as she walked on. The flurries became heavier and heavier. She pulled her hat down further over her ears and shivered inside her coat. As she walked, snow started accumulating on the ground at an alarming rate.

“I’m cold,” Paul said.

“Me, too,” Cass said as his teeth chattered.

Alarm shot through her. She needed to find shelter where they could wait out the storm. But there wasn’t a building in sight.

Silently, she cursed her bad luck. It would be one thing if she was alone, but she wasn’t. She should have brought a blanket and wrapped it around them on the horse. But who knew they were walking into a storm? And she just hadn’t thought of it. Now she could have kicked herself.

After a while, her feet were so cold that she started worrying about frostbite. Her feet were wet inside her boots. They were so cold they’d started hurting. She really needed to find shelter and she needed to find it soon.

She walked for another ten minutes or so when she spotted a dilapidated barn and relief shot through her. They would be all right. A barn wouldn’t be great shelter, but it beat being out in the snow.

“We’re going to go to that barn and wait out the storm,” she said. “Hold on.” She urged the horse to trot and she headed for the shelter. The wind cut into her as she hurried forward, chilling her to the bone. But she didn’t care. She was already so cold that it no longer mattered.

The closer she got, the more apparent the barn was in bad shape. It was leaning, but it looked like it didn’t have any huge holes which would have rendered it nearly useless.

Thank the dear Lord. She reached the barn and opened the big door on the side. It was dim inside and it smelled moldy, but she didn’t care. There was a huge pile of hay they could use to cover themselves and maybe stay slightly warm.

She led the horse inside and closed the door behind them. Nearly crying with relief, she helped Paul and Cass off the horse and tied him to a post.

“Let’s sit in the hay,” she said. “I need to take my boots off and warm my feet.” She hoped her feet didn’t swell. If they did, she might not be able to get the boots back on and that would be a disaster. But she had to warm her feet. They were at the point of burning from the intense cold.

They sat close to one another and nestled into the hay. It smelled musty and old. She didn’t care. It was better than nothing. 

She was half afraid to pull off her boots and see what her feet looked like. They hurt so bad, she was afraid they’d suffered frostbite. What if she lost her toes or her feet? She couldn’t let her mind run in that direction. She just needed to warm her feet and let her boots dry.

Gingerly, she pulled off one of her boots and the wet sock. Her foot had angry red blotches on it. She took off the other boot and sock and that foot looked the same. She thought they would be all right as they didn’t seem to be frozen. She buried her feet in the hay where they throbbed and burned.

“Momma, are your feet all right?” Paul said.

“Yes, honey, they’re fine. They’re just really cold and they hurt right now.” She hoped that was true.

Paul nodded while Cass looked on quietly.

She wondered what time it was. They had broken camp at dawn, and the horse had become injured almost right away. So it couldn’t even be close to noon yet. It didn’t matter though. All that mattered was that they’d found shelter to wait out the storm.

As she sat with her burning feet buried in the hay, the wind picked up and howled around the barn. Hopefully, the storm wouldn’t last too long. With no food or water, they needed to get to town.

Chapter Two

“Want another cup of coffee?” Gideon Holland glanced over at his sister Abigail?

“I still have some,” she said.

The kitchen smelled like the bacon and eggs they’d had earlier. Abigail was an excellent cook. He was pretty sure he would starve it not for her. He stifled a smile at the thought.

He went to the stove, limping slightly from the minie ball still lodged in his leg, and grabbed the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup before sitting at the kitchen table once more.

“Is your leg worse today?”

“A little. It’s the cold. It’s taking a toll on me.” At least it was toasty warm in the small kitchen. The huge cookstove made it the most pleasant room in the winter, and the most miserable during the summer heat.

She nodded and sipped her coffee.

He sighed.

Abigail glanced up from the paper she’d been reading. “You need to stop blaming yourself for Samuel’s mistakes. I know that’s what that sigh was about.”

He took a long drink of hot coffee. “Why? I was so focused on myself, my own problems that I didn’t see what was going on right under my nose.” The pain in his leg had consumed him for much too long. With time, it had improved. But it had diverted his attention from everything else, including their brother and his problems.

“We were all adults and it wasn’t your job to parent him,” she said.

“I know, but he was our younger brother. I knew he was running around with a rough crowd. I should have paid more attention to him. Maybe he would still be alive.” That thought ate at him every day of his life. He’d failed their little brother.

“Do you honestly think that would have changed anything?” Abigail said and shoved back an escaped lock of brown hair.

“It might have. He might be alive today.” He’d been selfish, absorbed in his own misery and memories of the war instead of taking note of what was going on around him.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Samuel was never happy here on the ranch. He didn’t like the work and wanted no part of it. You can’t change something like that in a person. No matter how much you might want to. He wanted something an ordinary life couldn’t offer. He wanted excitement, and … I don’t know what. But I know he didn’t want a part of ranch life.”

“And now he has no life,” Gideon said. His indifference had surely cost Samuel his life. He never wanted something like that to ever happen again.

“That isn’t your fault. Besides, I don’t believe what they say about him. And neither do you. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s all. He made a lot of mistakes, but he never would have participated in a bank robbery.”

“It doesn’t sound like him,” Gideon said. But he couldn’t be completely sure. He had been running with bad people. Who knew what they did. He surely didn’t know.

“That’s because it wasn’t something he would do. I’m telling you, he might have been at the bank, but he wasn’t there to help rob it. If anything, it was there to see that girl he was interested in.”

He sighed again. “I really hope you’re right.” It would be easier to live with if that was the truth. But he had no way of ever knowing if it was true or not.

“I know I am. Now are you going to take us to church?”

“You really want to go in this snow storm?”

“Of course, I do,” she said rather indignantly. “It isn’t that far. I love attending church.”

He knew she wanted to go. He also knew she wanted to visit with Virgil Burke, Gideon’s best friend, and the man she was sweet on. He honestly wasn’t sure how he felt about the situation between the two of them. He wanted the best for his sister, wanted her to be happy, but it was a bit awkward for him.

“Okay, then,” he said a bit reluctantly. “We’d better get ready.”

****

The ride into town was cold and blustery as snow swirled around the buggy. Gideon was glad when they arrived at church.

Reverend Thomas Somerland stood at the top of the steps greeting and welcoming people into the warmth of the small church which sat at the edge of town.

Gideon noticed a couple people glanced their way with a disgusted look. Shame swept over him. He knew they were thinking about the bank robbery that had claimed his brother’s life. How could Samuel have brought such shame on their family?

Abigail jabbed him with her elbow. “Stop letting them bother you. We did nothing wrong. And neither did our brother.”

Virgil came over with a big smile. “Abigail, Gideon, how good to see you. I didn’t know if you’d make it in this weather.” 

“She’d drag me into town in the middle of a blizzard,” Gideon said.

Virgil chuckled. “Well, I’m sure the good Lord appreciates her dedication.”

Gideon snorted. True Abigail did enjoy attending church, but he wasn’t fooled, seeing Virgil was also part of why she insisted on braving the weather.

Deputy Ackerman came over and pumped Gideon’s hand and then clapped his back. Andrew Ackerman was a good man and Gideon liked him, as opposed to the town sheriff, Larry Brooks, who had been sweet on Abigail at one time.

Andrew clapped Gideon on the shoulder. “We should get inside where it’s warm. This snow’s really coming down.”

Gideon nodded. “I hope it isn’t going to get much worse. It’s already piling up on the ground.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Virgil said. “It’s fixin’ to be a bad one, I think.”

Andrew nodded.

They went inside and sat together near the front.

Gideon was pretty sure he heard a couple whispers about Samuel’s involvement in the bank robbery as they waited for the sermon to begin. He tried to shut it out and the humiliation that always followed such things.

Finally, Reverend Somerland took his place at the pulpit and began his sermon.

As always, Gideon found the minister’s words soothing and uplifting. He could listen to the minister all day and not grow tired of hearing his soothing voice.

If only his words could soothe or drown out the voices in the community who believed the worst of his family.

****

As soon as they arrived back at the ranch, Gideon took off his Sunday clothes and put on his normal work attire.

Abigail was in the kitchen looking in the pantry.

“I’m going to ride out and check on the herd,” he said.

“You won’t be gone too long, will you? I’ll start lunch soon.”

“I’m not planning on being out there long, but it could take more time than I expect, so don’t be worried about me. I want to make sure the cattle are all right and open up the big barn so they can get out of the storm.”

She nodded and went back to her perusal of the pantry. “Maybe I’ll make a pot of soup. It’s perfect on a day like this. And you can eat whenever you’re ready.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said. He pulled on his boots and coat. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded. “I’ll have the soup on.”

Gideon hurried to the barn and saddled his big black gelding. He patted the horse’s neck. “Sorry, boy. I don’t want to go out there either, but I can’t let the cattle suffer in this blasted weather.”

It was a bit early for such an intense snow. He hoped it wasn’t an indication of the winter to come. If so, they were in for a bad one. And that meant his leg was going to hurt more than usual. He should have punched the surgeon who’d left him with such a mess. The man had no right to call himself a doctor.

He led the horse outside and his dog raced to him, tail wagging hard. “Hey there, Scraps, you want to go with me?” He rubbed the dog’s head and scratched his single ear. 

The poor dog had lost an ear and an eye to an animal attack a couple years before. He’d showed up at the ranch in horrible condition. Gideon treated his numerous wounds and nursed him back to health. Now scraps was his faithful friend and companion.

He swung into the saddle. “Come on, Scraps, let’s go check on the cattle.” He turned his horse into the storm and rode off at a trot. He pulled his scarf up over his face, his hat low, and hunched inside his coat. It felt like it was getting colder by the minute.

He rode over rough pasture land and slightly rolling hills. It took a good forty or so minutes to reach the stock barn. The cattle were already milling around the barn, seeking entrance to escape the storm. He dismounted and went to the big door. He rolled it back on the track enough that the cattle could get inside the shelter.

As the animals poured through the door, he mounted his horse and turned back toward home. He hadn’t ridden very far before sleet began slashing down, pelting his face in a stinging onslaught. As he rode, it came down ever harder.

He turned his horse in the direction of the old barn on the northwestern side of his property. He would take shelter in there until it stopped sleeting. He could reach the barn much quicker than he could get back to the house. Scraps trotted alongside his horse, tail wagging despite the stinging sleet.

He spotted the barn just ahead. It would be freezing cold inside, but at least it would be dry and free from the biting wind and balls of ice.

Gideon urged the horse into a faster trot, wanting relief from the sleet. Scraps yapped and kept up, tail wagging rapidly. The wind screamed even harder as he neared the barn. It didn’t matter, shelter was just ahead. The sleet wouldn’t last long. Then he would be on his way home. Scraps was just ahead of him. The dog stopped and lifted his head. He growled deep in his throat.

“What is it boy?”

Scraps headed straight for the old barn.