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“All right then. I’ll send for you, little sister.”

  Sarah felt her heart leap with sudden hope. To be free of her brutal stepfather would be the greatest gift her brother could give her. Just as quickly her joy vanished and a dull ache entered her heart. How can I leave? Mama relies on me for more than just help in managing the house. The kids don’t listen—they make more work for her. Who would she talk with in the long evenings when Gus is gone? I’m Mama’s only confidante. God, I simply can’t leave her.

  Sarah felt torn in two. She loved her mother, yet she adored her brother. Since their father’s death, Seth had been her protector, her cherished companion, her safeguard against some of her stepfather’s unpredictable moods. More than once Gus’s upraised hand had been stayed because of Seth’s presence. What would happen when her brother left? She shuddered. She dared not remind Seth of this, or he might stay on her account. That must not happen. Although Gus held back from brutalizing the women, he clearly had no qualms about laying into Seth for the smallest offense. One of these days the beast would beat Seth senseless—or kill him in a drunken rage.

  Sarah sighed, her decision made. “I can’t leave. I’ll get by.” She clasped one of Seth’s hands. “But you’re right. You’ve got to leave before our stepfather does something terrible to you. He’s a mean one. Stubborn, too. He’ll no doubt have the law after you, seeing you’re not yet of age. If you can only stay out of his clutches for two years, you’ll be safe.”

  Seth heaved a sigh. “I know. I don’t want to leave you and Mama, but I’ve got her blessing. She gave me what money she could spare. It must mean the Lord’s going to look after me.”

  “I hope so, Seth.” Sarah gave her brother a hug. “Write to us, would you? Let us know where you are.”

  “I’ll try. But it’ll probably be some time before I settle down in one place long enough to write.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Right away.” His face gleamed in the growing dusk. “I already said good-bye to Mama. Gus is down at the docks, hanging around his favorite riverboat. He’ll no doubt be gone all night. By the time he staggers home, I’ll be long gone.” Seth paused then quickly added, “Thank God that for once in their marriage Mama stood up to Gus when he wanted to sell Copper! I wouldn’t get far on foot. Even so, I can only carry food and a few extras in the saddlebags. Look after what little else I have, won’t you, and bring it when you come.”

  He paused. “Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a while. When I do write, I’ll send the letters to…” He named a trusted friend. “We can’t take a chance on Gus intercepting them.”

  Sarah sadly nodded and watched her brother walk off into the night. The sound of creaking leather, followed by the soft thud of the sorrel’s hooves diminished, leaving her alone in the darkness. Hot tears fell as she hurried to hide her brother’s few pitiful childhood treasures. The Stoddard children mustn’t get their greedy little hands on Seth’s belongings, especially the toy pistol Seth’s pa had painstakingly carved for him years before, so perfect in detail it closely resembled the real thing.

  Days passed. Gus Stoddard’s initial fury at Seth’s departure waned. A muttered “good riddance” a few weeks later assured Sarah and her mother that he had no immediate plans to track the young man down and drag him home. Life settled into routine—an empty routine for Sarah, who missed Seth’s hearty laugh and reassuring presence more than she had dreamed possible.

  Months limped by with no news of Seth. Sarah feared some misfortune had befallen her brother in the wild West. Each night after the youngsters had been put to bed, Sarah and her mother fell to their knees, asking God to keep His strong hand upon Seth. They also prayed for a letter.

  More than a year later the longed-for missive finally arrived, delivered by Seth’s friend. Seth was safe! Sarah and her mother rejoiced but kept the news to themselves, hiding the letter long before Gus returned from spending most of the afternoon and evening gambling away the little money he had. It would do Seth no good for Gus to learn the young man was now in California.

  Seth had written that he loved learning the cowboy trade on the Diamond S Ranch. “I’m the greenest greenhorn in the entire outfit,” he lamented in his letter. “I don’t know why my boss, Matt Sterling, has taken such a shine to me, but if it weren’t for him, I’d probably be lying dead in some back alley in Madera.” He closed his letter by writing, “Don’t worry. I’m alive, I’ve got a good job, and I am saving all I can. Keep praying for me. I know it’s those prayers that have seen me through some hard times.”

  Other letters arrived, secretly delivered by Seth’s friend. Usually they were short, with just bits and pieces of news about Seth’s new life. He loved the mild climate and the opportunity to make something of himself by working hard. He was happy, Sarah could tell. She only wished—

  A crash and a piercing scream jerked Sarah abruptly from her musing. She leaped from the mattress and scrambled down the ladder. Ellie and Timmy were at each other’s throats—biting, pinching, and hitting. Timmy was crying; Ellie shrieked at the top of her lungs.

  “Stop that at once!” Sarah ordered, grasping the back of Timmy’s overalls. She gave a yank, which forced the little boy to let go of his sister. “What’s going on?”

  Ellie threw herself at Timmy. Sarah had all she could do to avoid the child’s flailing fists. “He stole it!” Ellie screamed. “Give it back, you crybaby!”

  Timmy howled. “She’s killin’ me, Sarah! Make her stop!”

  Just then the door to the cottage burst open. Ian and Peter strolled through—dirty and rumpled. They whooped in delight at the scuffle but made no move to aid Sarah. Instead they watched from the doorway as their stepsister fought to control the two children.

  “You two give me a hand here,” she ordered the boys.

  “We’re hungry,” Peter answered, ignoring her request. He and Ian grinned, stepped around the ruckus, and began opening and closing cupboards in search of something to eat.

  Ellie and Timmy screamed louder. Sarah held them at arm’s length and tried to make them hush. A swift kick from the little girl sent a chair tumbling over.

  “Can’t a man return to his home without finding it in an uproar?” A bellow from behind Sarah sliced through the commotion.

  Silence fell. Sarah released the children. They turned to stare at Gus Stoddard and a dark-haired, dark-eyed stranger standing in the open doorway of their tiny cottage.

  “Here I am bringing a guest home and what greets us?” Gus roared. “A barroom brawl! Shame on you all.” He turned and focused most of his wrath on Sarah. “You, Sarah. You’re a grown woman. I expect you to keep these kids under control.” He waved an arm toward the cluttered room that served as both the kitchen and sitting room. “Look at this mess. You’ve let it fall apart the past couple of weeks. Rubbish everywhere.” He kicked at an empty whiskey bottle. “You’re to be keeping the place clean, girl. I’ve told you time and time again.”

  Sarah felt her cheeks flame in red-hot anger. Keep this place clean? How dare you! She wanted to shout into his face that it was he and his disheveled pack of rowdy youngsters who turned this tiny shack into a garbage heap most days. If Mama hadn’t worked so hard that she collapsed a few days before the baby came, perhaps both of them wouldn’t have died in childbirth. Sarah had been too overwhelmed with trying to care for her dying mother to keep the place straightened up.

  Gus glowered at her and continued his rampage. He waggled a finger in her face. “You, m’girl, are not making a very good impression on Mr. Edwards. I told him you kept a tidy house.”

  Sarah shoved her anger to a corner of her mind and shifted her gaze from her stepfather to the stranger. So this was Tice Edwards, with whom her stepfather did business. An older man, but not as old as Gus, he stood tall and proud, with coal-black hair cut short and slicked back. No ragged beard or mustache marred his chiseled face. Above a straight nose, his dark eyes gleamed with interest and amusement. When he caught Sa
rah’s appraising look, he nodded slightly. “Good evening.” His words were refined, silky, polished, but his bold stare made Sarah squirm.

  She dropped her gaze and stared at a crack in the floor, mind awhirl. Just who was this obviously wealthy and high-class Tice Edwards? Certainly not one of Gus’s usual companions. Many a night Sarah and her mother had been forced to endure the company of rowdy and ill-mannered guests crowded into the house, but Mr. Edwards had never been part of those gatherings. Whatever did he see in her stepfather?

  While she was still trying to piece together the significance of Mr. Edwards’s unexpected visit, Gus strode across the room, draped a heavy, dirty arm across Sarah’s shoulders and grinned at his guest. The matter of the filthy cabin suddenly seemed insignificant. “So, what do you think of her, Tice? We sort of caught my daughter unawares, and I know she ain’t dressed for company, but you can see she’s a real looker. Think she’ll do?”

  Sarah flinched at her stepfather’s touch and twisted free. Her throat went dry. Do? What kind of employment was Gus arranging for her this time? Scullery maid? Cook? Upstairs maid? Probably not, she reasoned, if the cottage was intended to be a job reference. It really was a jumble tonight. Perhaps Mr. Tice Edwards would turn up his nose and stalk out the door in a huff. Judging from appearances, the man could afford many servants. Why would he consider hiring anyone Gus Stoddard put forward? Sarah swallowed and chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. Perhaps working in a fine home would be a step up from serving as a drudge to Gus.

  The next instant she saw the intense, eager look on Tice’s face. Sarah decided she did not want to work for him after all—no matter how much he might pay. As unpleasant as her life was with Gus Stoddard, now that her mother was gone, she didn’t like the looks of this expensively clad stranger. He stared at her like she was a slab of prime beef hanging in the butcher’s window. She couldn’t abide the thought of those probing eyes watching her carry out her duties in his home. Sarah steeled herself to refuse his offer of employment.

  Tice strolled leisurely across the floor and came to a stop a few inches from where she stood next to Gus. He caught her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “She’ll do nicely.” He chuckled. “Needs a bit of cleaning up, but you’re right. She’s real pretty.”

  “Then it’s a deal?” Gus asked eagerly.

  Tice dropped his hand and smiled. Straight, white teeth flashed. A line from a fairy tale crossed Sarah’s mind. “The better to eat you with, my dear.” “It’s a deal.”

  Sarah rubbed her chin and turned on her stepfather. “What’s a deal?” she demanded. “If you think I’m going to work for Mr. Edwards, you’re mistaken.”

  Gus’s slap sent Sarah reeling. He shot an apologetic look toward Tice. “She’s a mite feisty sometimes, Tice. Didn’t have real good bringing up, I’m afraid.” He waggled a finger at Sarah. “You’re not going to work for Mr. Edwards, m’girl. You’re going to be his wife.”

  Chapter 3

  Sarah staggered to her feet. “His—his—wife?” she stuttered, unable to grasp what Gus was saying. The stinging pain of her stepfather’s slap went unheeded. She stumbled to the crude table and leaned against it, breathing hard. This can’t be happening. Please, God, let it all be a bad dream.

  Tice Edwards quickly joined Sarah. “If I may?” he offered, pulling out a chair. His silken words flowed over Sarah like sweet, sticky honey.

  She shivered and closed her eyes then crumpled into the chair. She buried her head in her arms and fought against the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. Hot tears sprang to her eyes, but she forced them back. This is not a crying matter, Sarah told herself fiercely. I must think. I must get control of myself.

  A whimper brought Sarah’s head up. Timmy stood at the end of the table, biting his lip. His light brown hair curled around his ears and fell into his wide, dark eyes. His hands were thrust into the pockets of his overalls, and he sniffled. When Sarah caught his gaze, he blinked hard and whispered, “Sarah?”

  Her heart softened at the uncertainty on the little boy’s face. But before she could respond to him, Gus barked, “Get outside—all of you. Don’t come in till I tell you.”

  “I want Sarah,” Timmy pleaded. He’d swiftly changed from the screaming, fighting little tiger of a few minutes ago to a scared child in need of a hug. No matter how irritated Sarah found herself at the antics of Gus’s children, it was clear Timmy knew where he could find shelter during his father’s many angry storms. He reached for her in spite of his father’s order.

  “Git, I told you!” Gus took a swipe at Timmy, but the boy was too quick. He ducked under Gus’s arm and scampered outdoors with a frightened yelp. The other children had already disappeared through the door, away from their father’s rotten temper and heavy hand.

  Sarah heard the harsh teasing of the older boys and Timmy’s sobbing through the open door. She clenched her fists. She wanted to rush outside and gather Timmy into her arms. Of Gus’s four children, Timmy was the sensitive one, the child who had known Sarah’s mother as his only mother and Sarah as his real sister. When he wasn’t being influenced for evil by his older siblings, he was a loving little boy.

  The brush of Tice’s hand across the braid on the top of Sarah’s head brought her around. She shook herself free of his touch and stood. She looked up, gripped the edge of the table to steady herself, and took a deep breath. Ice tinkled in her voice as she said, “I will not marry you, Mr. Edwards.”

  Gus lurched forward, hand raised, but Tice motioned him away with a curt wave. “No more of that, Gus. I don’t want my future wife marred for her wedding day.” He gave Sarah a rueful smile. “I’m sorry the arrangements are not to your liking, Miss Stoddard—”

  “Anderson,” Sarah corrected between clenched teeth.

  Tice bowed. “My mistake, Miss Anderson. I apologize. I regret I haven’t made a good impression on you, but contrary to what your stepfather told you earlier, you have made a good first impression on me.” He grinned. “Actually, a second impression.”

  Sarah’s stomach lurched. “I’ve never seen you before. How could I have made any impression on you?”

  “You’d better explain it to her, Gus,” Tice suggested quietly. He waved toward the chair Sarah had recently vacated. “Please sit down.”

  Sarah sat. Her palms turned clammy. She rubbed them against her skirt and then clenched them in her lap. She kept her expression stony when she turned to face her stepfather, dreading and fearing what he would say.

  Gus sauntered over to the cookstove and peered into the speckled enamel coffeepot. He grunted, poured himself a cup of the steaming brew, crossed the room, and plunked himself down into an overstuffed armchair that had seen better days. “Well now, Sarah, the truth of the matter is this: My friend Tice has had his eye on you for quite some time. He saw you one day down by the docks and decided you were the girl for him. O’course, that was a few years back, but I promised I’d make arrangements for your—betrothal—as soon as an opportunity presented itself.” He paused and looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup.

  Sarah saw in Gus’s steely eyes the truth of the past three years. He had used her mother from the very beginning—used her as nothing more than a slave. He had run her ragged taking care of his four kids and trying to keep everyone fed. He took, took, took and never returned a shred of decency, never regarded Virginia Anderson Stoddard as the companion and confidante that God intended a wife should be to her husband. Now Gus planned to use her, too. But why would he be willing to have her marry Tice and leave his children without anyone to care for them?

  An ugly thought sprang to life in Sarah’s head, and she leaped to her feet. Money. It’s got to have something to do with money.

  Disgust permeated her. It blotted out fear. Slow, hot rage slowly worked its way from the pit of her belly to the roots of her strawberry blond, braided coronet. “You waited until my mother died,” she lashed out in sudden realization. “She never would have stood for this, you
—you—swine; I despise you!”

  Sarah’s outburst brought a bark of laughter from Tice. “Yes sir, Gus. I like her. She’s got spirit. I’ve had more than my share of clinging, simpering females over the years. Your girl will be a welcome diversion. I’ll be proud to stroll with her along the deck of the River Queen and show her off to all those luckless gentlemen who missed such a catch.”

  The gumption inherited from her strong Scandinavian father now served her in good stead. She drew herself up to her full five-feet, four-inch height, raised her chin, and slowly paid out words like a miser pays out gold. “I already told you, Mr. Edwards: I will not marry you—ever.” Sarah felt stronger now. Her angry response to Gus had helped her gather her wits and prepare for battle. It was a battle—one she dared not lose. She took a few steps toward the ladder that led to her attic sanctuary. “If you will excuse me, I’m tired.” She nodded at Tice. “I could say it was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Edwards, but it wasn’t. Good evening.”

  Gus lurched from his chair and hurled his half-empty coffee cup across the room. It slammed into the ladder steps, inches from Sarah’s face. Dark brown liquid splattered her skirt. She froze. “You stay put and hear us out, girl.” Gus’s eyes blazed. “Your playacting and putting on fancy airs won’t get you anywhere.” He caught Sarah by the wrist and gave it a painful twist.

  “Gus,” Tice protested, “that’s enough.”

  Gus ignored the warning. With a practiced hand he maneuvered Sarah toward the overstuffed chair and forced her to sit. Then he shook a bony finger in her face. “The fact is, missy, you’ve belonged to Tice Edwards for some time,” he gloated. “Your signature on the marriage papers is all that remains to make it legal.”

  Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but the sudden, desperate look on Gus’s face made her close it again.

  “Perhaps I should continue, Gus,” Tice broke in. “Miss Anderson, you are overwrought.” He crossed the room and knelt down beside the armchair. “You must forgive your stepfather, Sarah, my dear. He’s been under quite a strain the past two years. Gus owes me money—a lot of money. He’s accumulated quite a gambling debt aboard the River Queen. I should have tossed him overboard long ago, but…” He allowed his gaze to linger on Sarah’s face. “He assured me his collateral was worth allowing him a chance to win his losses back.” Tice sighed. “Unfortunately Gus is not an especially good gambler. His losses keep piling up. The good news is that when you become my wife, I will cancel all debts against him. In addition, as my father-in-law, he will have the privilege of gambling as often and for as much as he likes aboard the Queen. Your brothers and sister need never worry about going hungry again.” He grinned. “They could stay on board ship if they liked.”