Cowboy Creek Christmas: Mistletoe Reunion. Cheryl St.John
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part in raising and caring for her grandson. It was time she had the freedom to travel and enjoy friends. And now that they were settled in their new home, it was past time August and Sam learned to make the best of their threadbare family.
But it seemed the more he tried to draw him close, the more reserved August became. Sam was at a loss, and he prayed continually for a breakthrough.
His thoughts skipped back to Marlys, strangely pleased that she’d had the inclination to make something for the scar under his eye. He glanced at his reflection in the window of the sheriff’s office as they passed, then grabbed a paper and entered to give the lawman a copy.
Marlys was still an enigma. He’d never understood what made her tick, and he still didn’t. He needed to create a stable life for his son, perhaps marry and establish a family if God saw fit to make that happen. He’d be wise to remember she wasn’t that woman, and no attraction or friendship was going to change that. He’d already learned the hard way that hoping for a piece of her heart was futile.
But for some reason, he did value her friendship, and he felt unexplainably responsible for her. She was the smartest person he knew, but she was also headstrong and naive, and those two qualities could mean trouble. He meant to keep his guard up where she was concerned—for her protection and for his.
* * *
Dressed in sensible boots, a slim split riding skirt and a warm coat with a fur hat, Marlys approached the livery and opened the single door. November had arrived with more sun and less snow, but she’d been warned that the weather was unpredictable, so she was prepared.
Sam stood beside a shiny mahogany horse in the wide open area, wearing a suede coat and boots, with a revolver holstered to his thigh. He tightened the cinch on the saddle, patted the horse’s rump and turned to spot her. “I thought we were meeting at the newspaper office.”
“I was ready so I walked,” she replied.
“You look warm and ready for the day.”
“Amos Godwin made these boots for me,” she told him. “I ordered two pair, and he finished these warm ones first.” She glanced over her shoulder. “We will need to go back to my office, though. I have items to bring that I couldn’t carry.”
“I wondered about that. Do we need another horse?”
“I believe so.”
The door opened again, and a young man in a heavy coat joined them, spurs jangling. “Sam.” He tipped his hat to Marlys.
“Marlys, this is James Johnson, Hannah’s husband. James, this is Dr. Boyd.”
“How do, ma’am. I’ve heard about you.”
Marlys greeted the young man with a warm smile. “All good, I’m sure.”
He grinned. “You arrived in town a little too late to hear all the gossip about me and Hannah. And there were a lot of tongues wagging so I was relieved about the new topic of interest.”
“You have me curious now,” she said.
“We’ll have plenty of time to talk,” he replied.
“How much are you taking?” Sam asked her. Then, without waiting for a reply, he said, “James, would a wagon make the trip?”
“No hills or rivers,” he answered. “One creek, not too deep. A wagon will fare well.”
“We will probably need it,” Marlys agreed.
“I’ll hitch horses,” Sam decided. “And I’ll drive the wagon. You can ride ahead, James.”
Their scout headed back into what appeared to be the tack room. “I’ll help with the animals.”
It didn’t take long for the two men to have the wagon ready. Sam assisted Marlys up to the seat and climbed up to take the reins. Back on Second Street, they loaded her crates and bags from her office, and covered them with a tarp.
“I brought food, too.” She handed him a basket with a lid, and he tucked it under the covering.
The weather cooperated, with partial sun breaking through the clouds, but the air was crisp. She was glad she’d bundled for warmth and brought her scarf for her neck and face. James rode ahead as they made their way north out of town.
“No patients today?” Sam asked.
She raised an eyebrow and slanted him a glance. After the incident with the soldier, she’d had a few patients by default, and Pippa liked the mineral baths, but her waiting room was still a good place to be if one wanted quiet time.
“Was that a no?”
“There was a rush of curious people after I treated the soldier, but only a few since then. Perhaps there will be more patients tomorrow,” she said.
He gave a nod of agreement. “The piece I wrote didn’t do any harm, I hope.”
“You stated the facts,” she replied. “At least no one has applied for the assistant position, so I’m not paying a helper yet.”
He glanced up from beneath the brim of his hat, and she followed his gaze to see a hawk gliding on a current.
“From what you said earlier, though, it sounds like you’ve grown accustomed to getting by on very little. Your father cut you off financially after you called off our engagement, did he not?”
“Most definitely.”
“How did you pay for university?” When she didn’t answer right away, he said quickly, “I’m sorry. That was a rude question.”
“I appreciate forthrightness,” she replied honestly. “I worked several jobs to pay my way. I cleaned every evening for a barber. I did laundry for a family. I stayed with a statesman’s elderly mother and had a small room in her home with meals included.”
“When did you study?”
“Every chance I got. Mostly at night.”
Sam looked at Marlys, and his admiration hitched a notch higher. He’d always known she was smart and ambitious, but her fortitude and passion equaled that of the great men he’d known. The strength and determination that shone on her face made her even more striking, with her beautiful porcelain skin and winged brows a shade darker than her bright chestnut hair. Little wonder he’d been smitten with her, but had she ever felt drawn to him? She’d accepted his proposal to appease her father, but now he believed she’d never felt anything beyond a sense of duty. No man wanted to feel like an obligation.
He didn’t really blame her. They were too different. They wanted different things. He’d wanted to marry and start a family. She’d been ardent about her education and medicine. It was better she’d been strong enough to end it than to allow them to make a mistake and enter an ill-fated marriage. “And once you’d graduated, you started looking for a place to locate?”
“I shared a practice with a colleague for a time, but we struggled. Most city people who appreciated advanced medicine already had established doctors. I’d followed the articles and ads about Western locations for some time. The more I looked into the new towns, the more I saw the possibility of pioneer communities being open to new and unconventional practices. Once I had the idea, I couldn’t let go of it. I saw several advertisements encouraging brides and business owners to Cowboy Creek. I wrote the town council, and the town clerk sent me a map and a list of available properties.”
“How did you select your location?”
“Because of my need for water, it wasn’t difficult. I wanted access to the well between the bath house on Second and the laundry on First. Also it’s only three businesses in from the main thoroughfare.”
“Maybe I could include more of your personal story in the next article.”
“I forgot for a moment I was speaking to the journalist. I’ll think about it.”
“Being