Chapter 1 - The Woman No One Would Hire
Evelyn Gallagher had learned that hunger had stages.
At first, it complained.
Then it hurt.
By the third day, it became strangely quiet.
That silence frightened her more than the pain ever had.
She stood inside the Oak Haven Hotel laundry office with both hands folded over the front of her worn brown dress, trying not to look at the tray of biscuits sitting six feet away on the manager’s desk.
She could smell butter.
She could smell cinnamon.
She hated herself for noticing.
The hotel manager leaned backward in his chair and studied her as though Evelyn were livestock someone had brought him without permission.
“The job requires stamina.”
Evelyn nodded quickly.
“I have stamina, sir.”
His gaze moved over her body.
Evelyn was a large woman. She had always been broad through the hips and full through the waist, with strong arms built from years of kneading bread, carrying firewood, scrubbing floors, and doing every other chore required of a woman who had never possessed enough money to pay someone else to do them.
But the manager did not see strength.
He smiled.
“I doubt someone your size could even haul wet linens from the river.”
Evelyn’s cheeks burned.
“I hauled flour sacks for my uncle when I was fourteen.”
“That was fourteen years ago.”
“I can still work.”
“Can you?”
The doubt in his voice was worse than laughter.
Evelyn swallowed.
She had been rejected by the restaurant that morning.
Too slow-looking.
The seamstress the day before.
Wrong sort of figure for the front room.
The boardinghouse before that.
Too rough.
Too poor.
Too something.
Always too something.
She looked down at her boots.
The left sole had begun separating near the toe.
“I don’t need wages immediately,” she said quietly. “Just meals and somewhere to sleep. You can keep the first week’s pay until I prove myself.”
The manager’s expression did not change.
“I said no.”
Evelyn nodded.
There was no point losing the little dignity she had remaining.
“Thank you for your time.”
She turned.
Behind her, the manager broke a biscuit in half.
The sound followed Evelyn out the door.
Outside, Colorado summer heat poured over the boardwalk.
Oak Haven sat in a valley surrounded by mountains so beautiful they almost seemed cruel. Snow still clung to the highest peaks even while dust hung over the town streets.
Wagons rattled past.
Miners shouted outside the saloon.
A woman carrying parcels avoided Evelyn when she approached.
Evelyn walked without any particular destination.
Her parents were dead.
Her last remaining uncle had been buried in Kansas the previous winter.
The small farm had belonged to the bank before the ground thawed.
By spring, Evelyn owned everything she could carry.
By summer, that had become very little.
A shawl.
A spare blouse.
Two stockings.
A hairbrush missing three teeth.
And twenty-three cents.
She touched the coins hidden in her pocket.
Enough for bread.
Maybe.
Not enough for a room.
She was considering whether sleeping behind the church might be safer than the livery stable when a scream ripped across the street.
A child’s scream.
Evelyn stopped.
A second scream followed.
She turned.
Two little girls stood trapped beside the loading dock of a mercantile store.
Feed barrels blocked one side.
A wagon blocked the other.
Between the girls and the street stood a huge stray dog.
Its ribs showed beneath dirty fur.
Its body was stiff.
Its teeth were bared.
A finely dressed woman stood ten yards away.
“Someone do something!”
The woman shrieked.
“Help them!”
Nobody moved quickly enough.
The dog lunged.
Evelyn did.
She did not think about hunger.
Or the manager.
Or her torn boots.
She grabbed a heavy broom propped against the mercantile wall and ran.
“GET BACK!”
The dog wheeled toward her.
Evelyn planted herself between the animal and the children.
Behind her, one girl whimpered.
The dog snapped.
Evelyn swung the broom against the wooden loading dock.
The crack echoed across the street.
“GIT!”
The animal lunged again.
Teeth caught Evelyn’s skirt.
Fabric ripped.
Pain scratched across her calf.
She stumbled but did not move away.
The younger child made a tiny choking sound.
Evelyn spread her stance.
“Not them.”
She raised the broom.
“I said GIT!”
This time when she slammed the broom down, the dog recoiled.
For one frozen second woman and animal stared at each other.
Then the dog turned and ran beneath a wagon.
Evelyn dropped the broom.
Her hands began shaking only after the danger had passed.
She turned.
The girls were beautiful.
The older one appeared nine.
The younger perhaps seven.
Both wore expensive mustard-yellow dresses that no ordinary family in Oak Haven could afford.
Their faces were pale.
Neither spoke.
Evelyn lowered herself carefully.
“It’s all right, sweetings.”
The younger girl stared at her.
“You’re safe.”
The child moved suddenly.
She threw both arms around Evelyn’s neck.
Evelyn nearly fell backward.
“Oh.”
The older girl came next.
She pressed against Evelyn’s shoulder, gripping the sleeve of her dress so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Evelyn wrapped one arm around each child.
“There now.”
Her voice softened.
“No teeth. No trouble. Just us.”
The younger girl trembled against her.
Then sharp footsteps struck the boardwalk.
The finely dressed woman hurried toward them.
“Let go of them!”
Evelyn looked up.
The woman’s face twisted with disgust.
“You filthy woman! Get your hands off those children!”
Evelyn stiffened.
“I was only—”
“You have no business touching them.”
The woman reached for the younger child.
The girl clung harder to Evelyn.
That apparently angered the woman even more.
“Margaret, stop that this instant.”
The child hid her face.
Evelyn’s humiliation returned like fire.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “They were frightened.”
“I am their governess. I know what they need.”
Evelyn looked toward the spot where the woman had stood screaming.
She did not say what she was thinking.
She did not have to.
A deep voice spoke from behind them.
“You were their governess.”
The entire boardwalk seemed to go silent.
The governess froze.
Evelyn looked around.
A man crossed the street.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dark-haired.
A weathered brown coat hung from his powerful frame despite the heat. A wide-brimmed hat shaded eyes so pale blue that Evelyn noticed them from twenty feet away.
People moved aside for him.
Nobody told them to.
They simply did.
Someone near the mercantile whispered his name.
“Whitmore.”
Evelyn knew it.
Everyone in Colorado seemed to know it.
Josiah Whitmore.
Silver magnate.
Mine owner.
Landowner.
The richest man in the county.
Stories claimed he owned half the valley and could buy the other half before supper if he felt inclined.
He stopped in front of the governess.
“You stood there screaming,” he said.
“Mr. Whitmore, I—”
“While this woman put herself between my daughters and a set of teeth.”
The governess paled.
“I was calling for assistance.”
“You were their assistance.”
His voice never rose.
That made it worse.
“Pack your bags.”
“Sir?”
“You’re dismissed.”
Tears immediately filled the woman’s eyes.
“You cannot possibly mean—”
“I do.”
“But where will I go?”
Josiah looked toward his daughters.
Neither girl had released Evelyn.
“That was apparently a question you were willing to let my children face permanently.”
The governess turned red.
Then she fled.
Josiah watched her leave before kneeling.
The change in him was immediate.
His hard expression softened.
He looked at the older girl.
“Abigail.”
She stared at him.
Then at Evelyn.
Josiah looked toward the younger child.
“Margaret.”
Nothing.
He did not seem surprised by their silence.
Something in his face broke for half a heartbeat.
Evelyn noticed.
So did he.
He covered it quickly.
“They haven’t spoken in fourteen months,” he said.
Evelyn looked down.
“Fourteen months?”
“Since their mother died.”
Her heart tightened.
The younger girl still had her face against Evelyn’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
Josiah studied Evelyn.
Only then did his gaze drop toward her ripped skirt.
“You’re hurt.”
“It barely touched me.”
“Let me see.”
Embarrassed, Evelyn pulled the torn fabric aside enough to reveal a shallow graze.
“I’ve had worse from kitchen knives.”
His mouth tightened.
“You saved them.”
“Anyone would have.”
He glanced across the boardwalk at the men who had watched.
“No.”
The single word landed heavily.
“Apparently not.”
Evelyn lowered her eyes.
The movement made the world sway.
She caught herself.
Josiah saw.
“When did you last eat?”
She stiffened.
“I’m fine.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Her pride told her to lie.
Her stomach chose that exact moment to growl.
Loudly.
Abigail looked down toward it.
For the first time, Evelyn saw something almost like amusement flicker in the girl’s eyes.
Evelyn wanted the earth to swallow her.
“Three days,” she admitted.
Josiah’s face changed.
“Why?”
“I haven’t found work.”
“In Oak Haven?”
“I've found plenty of people who say I can’t work.”
She tried to laugh.
It came out brittle.
“Apparently that’s different.”
He looked at her clothing.
Her boots.
Her worn shawl.
Evelyn felt exposed.
“I need work, sir.”
Her voice cracked despite her determination.
“I’ll clean. Cook. Haul water. Wash floors. I’m strong.”
She glanced at herself.
“I know people look at me and think otherwise, but I’ll work myself to the bone for a roof and scraps.”
She felt Abigail’s hand tighten around her sleeve.
Evelyn swallowed.
“Let me look after them.”
Josiah said nothing.
For several seconds, there was only the creak of wagon wheels and distant voices.
Then he stood.
He extended one hand.
“Stand up, Miss Gallagher.”
Evelyn stared at his hand.
“How do you know my name?”
“I heard the hotel manager tell you to leave ten minutes ago.”
Her humiliation deepened.
“You saw that?”
“I did.”
“And you still think I’m fit to stand near your children?”
His eyes sharpened.
“I just watched you do what a woman I paid handsomely refused to do.”
Evelyn slowly took his hand.
He pulled her upright with surprising gentleness.
“My carriage is waiting.”
She frowned.
“Where are we going?”
“The magistrate.”
Evelyn stared.
“The magistrate?”
“Yes.”
“But I asked for a job.”
“I know.”
Josiah looked toward his daughters.
Abigail stood at Evelyn’s left side.
Margaret stood at her right.
Neither appeared willing to move without her.
He looked back at Evelyn.
“I don’t need another servant.”
A strange tension entered the air.
Evelyn’s heartbeat quickened.
“What do you need?”
Josiah Whitmore held her gaze.
“A wife.”
For the second time that afternoon, the entire world seemed to become silent.
Evelyn thought she had misheard him.
“You need… what?”
“A wife.”
She almost laughed.
Then she saw his expression.
“You’re serious.”
“Completely.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know enough for the next hour.”
“That might be the most foolish thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Probably.”
Evelyn looked down at the children.
“What does marriage have to do with them?”
Something dark passed through Josiah’s eyes.
“Everything.”
Before Evelyn could ask another question, he turned toward a black carriage waiting at the curb.
“My daughters have relatives in Boston.”
“And?”
“They intend to take them.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“On what grounds?”
“That they have no mother.”
The younger girl pressed against Evelyn again.
Josiah’s voice dropped.
“They’ll arrive soon.”
“How soon?”
A muscle moved in his jaw.
“Soon enough that I don't have time to court you properly.”
Evelyn’s breath caught.
“You think marrying a stranger will stop them?”
“No.”
Josiah looked toward the mountains.
“But marrying the woman my daughters have chosen to hold onto may give me a fighting chance.”
He opened the carriage door.
Evelyn did not move.
She had entered that morning hungry, homeless, and unable to convince a hotel manager she could carry sheets.
Now the richest man in the county was asking her to become his wife.
It was absurd.
Dangerous.
Impossible.
And the younger girl had not released her hand.
Evelyn looked toward Abigail.
The older child stared up at her with enormous frightened eyes.
Then Evelyn looked at Josiah.
“If I say yes, your daughters come first.”
“They already do.”
“You will never ask me to treat them as bargaining pieces.”
His expression hardened.
“Never.”
“And I will have food?”
His face softened almost imperceptibly.
“You’ll never beg for food again.”
That promise nearly destroyed her.
Evelyn drew one shaky breath.
Then she climbed into the carriage.
Less than an hour later, Evelyn Gallagher—the woman no hotel in Oak Haven would hire—would stand before a magistrate beside Colorado’s richest mountain man.
She would leave carrying his name.
What she did not yet understand was that Josiah Whitmore had not told her everything.
Someone was not simply trying to take his daughters.
Someone had been waiting for exactly the kind of desperate decision Josiah had just made.
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And by sunset, Evelyn would be standing directly in their way.
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