Nolan's Vow (Grooms with Honor Book 8) Read online

  “Chili can be stretched by adding more beans, but you have to plan ahead and have the beans soaked the night before.”

  “Or chicken and dumplings could be stretched. I can make more dumplings and add more canned chicken if need be,” Holly felt good with her answer.

  “Make plenty of quick biscuits too, and what you don’t use tonight you can serve in the morning.”

  “What about serving biscuits for breakfast?” They both turned around when they heard Mrs. Randolph speak behind them.

  “Why did you come downstairs when your side is so sore, Myrtle?” Holly quickly dried her hands on a towel and helped the older woman sit down on a chair in the kitchen.

  “It was so noisy down here I figured you had quite a few people for lunch and would need help cleaning up,” Myrtle said while carefully sitting down with Holly’s help. “And who is this soldier helping you in my kitchen? Hello, son, I’m the widow Myrtle Randolph.”

  “Nolan Clancy at your service, Ma’am,” the man said as he shook Myrtle’s hand. “Miss Brandt served fifty-seven plates for lunch today, and I volunteered to help with the dishes as part of my pay.”

  “Oh dear. You still haven’t eaten your meal,” Holly exclaimed, feeling her face blush, thinking of her taking advantage of the stranger’s help, and then not feeding him.

  “Holly, please dish up some leftovers then so we can all eat,” Myrtle instructed her.

  Holly hated for Myrtle to come downstairs, yet she felt more at ease than being with the soldier by herself. He might have been polite at first, but maybe it was a ploy to get her alone.

  “Where you been stationed, Mr. Clancy?” Myrtle asked the question Holly hadn’t had time to ask yet. Holly listened to the two converse while bringing their filled bowls to the table.

  “Fort Ellis.”

  Holly sat down in her chair, ready to eat her meal. “My father worked at Fort Ellis before retiring six years ago, and we moved to this area. I wonder if you would have been there at the same time.” Holly was curious if the two men had ever worked together.

  “Sergeant Brandt, by chance?”

  “Yes, he was an interpreter and scout.”

  “Yes, I remember him. I came in ‘78, and he left in ‘79. What does he do now?”

  “Actually, he died last year while working for a mining company in Silver Crossing. It’s a town two day’s ride up the mountain from here.”

  “Sorry for your loss,” Mr. Clancy said before taking another spoonful of stew.

  Holly nodded in response. Her life had drastically changed once she was on her own.

  “I decided Miller Springs was a safer place to live than around the miners, so I moved down here.” Luckily, Mrs. Randolph hired her right away, letting her live upstairs as part of her pay.

  They ate in silence, all hungry because it was way past noon.

  “Tasty stew, Holly,” Myrtle said after thoughtfully tasting a spoonful. “You added green beans to it?”

  “Mr. Clancy came to my rescue when I had only one pot of stew—to stretch to feed over fifty people.”

  “Plus we handed out several bowls of seconds,” Mr. Clancy added.

  “I recognize vegetables we canned with summer,” Myrtle stirred her bowl, looking over the contents, “and the meat we cut up and canned from the side of beef we bought from the Campbell Ranch.”

  “I learned this trick from my grandfather. My grandparents raised my sister and me, so we spent our childhood in their café. I can do anything except make a pie.”

  “And why didn’t you learn that?” Myrtle asked. “People like a dessert to finish their meal.”

  “We have a woman in town, Millie Wilerson, the marshal’s wife, who makes the pies for the Clancy Café and the Paulson Hotel. Or anyway she used to when I lived there. By now she’s probably too busy with her family to still bake for both places, if either.”

  “Having pies brought in would really help with time and oven space. What did you serve for dessert today?” Myrtle looked at Holly, then Mr. Clancy.

  “Another one of Mr. Clancy’s ideas. We scooped the top crusts off the pies and set them aside, then dumped the contents of the three pies in a big bowl, mix in cherries and blackberries we’d canned with summer.

  “We put the fruit mixture in custard bowls, crumbled the pie crust, and sprinkled the crumbs on each bowlful.”

  “Mr. Clancy whipped the cream and put a spoonful on top of each dessert.”

  “So three pies served over fifty people. My grandma called it ‘berry crumble’ if she had to stretch out a few pies.”

  “Well, you just taught this old cook a few new ideas. Thank you for helping Holly out today. How long are you in town?”

  “Until the train leaves, which I should probably go check on since I’m done with my bowl of stew…but then I couldn’t help you with dishes,” Mr. Clancy hastily added.

  “I can dry dishes while sitting down, Mr. Clancy, so you’re free to go.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Randolph,” he said rising from his chair. He added his bowl to the stack of dirty dishes on the side table before reaching for the layer of clothing he’d shed while working.

  “No, sir, I thank you for being an upstanding young man. You were taught good manners by your elders,” Myrtle pointed her finger at Mr. Clancy.

  Mr. Clancy laughed and shook his head. “Oh, I was part of a gang of boys in town, and we did our share of mischief. But the pastor’s wife always caught us and straightened us out.”

  “Why the pastor’s wife?” Holly asked, wondering why this woman would have been involved.

  “Six of the boys causing the trouble were her sons,” Mr. Clancy grinned. “She’d get so mad, she’d switch to her Irish brogue, and we couldn’t understand a word she said. But we knew what she meant when she thumped our heads. Boy would that sting.”

  “Well, sounds like she had her hands full and still did a good job,” Myrtle commented.

  “Yes, and I can’t wait to get home and give Kaitlyn Reagan a hug. Her words of wisdom—and scolding—have helped me in many situations over the past years.”

  Holly stood up and walked over to Mr. Clancy. She didn’t know how he’d react, but she reached out her hand to shake his. Would he take her hand since she was a mixed breed?

  Her hand tingled when he clasped her hand with both of his, holding it a second before squeezing it and letting go.

  “Thank you, Mr. Clancy, for coming to my rescue today,” Holly spoke while watching the man’s expressive eyes. He hadn’t been offended shaking her hand.

  “Well, thanks for letting me help today. I actually enjoyed it.”

  Mr. Clancy looked around the kitchen before nodding and walking to the door.

  Holly’s eyes followed Mr. Clancy as he trudged through the snow and disappeared in the swirling snow. Why do the decent men always leave?

  Chapter 2

  Nolan braced against the pelting snow as he walked back to the depot. The snow was several inches deeper than when he left the train three hours ago, looking for somewhere to eat.

  He would not miss the territory’s winter that was for sure. He’d experienced some bad snow blizzards in Kansas, but then the sun would come out and thaw the snow, granting the residents a few days without snow now and then. Here in the territory once it started snowing, there would be snow on the ground until May, and longer up in the mountains.

  The Kansas prairie would be a sea of green by the end of April. Meadowlarks singing as they enjoyed the warmth, as well as the first rattlesnakes sunning themselves on the rocks outside the caves in Horsethief Canyon. Oh yes, he was ready to experience spring on the Kansas prairie again.

  One of the first things he wanted to do when getting home was to visit his friends at the Cross C Ranch and go for a ride.

  All the Reagan brothers had worked on the ranch at one time or the other, but only Seth chose it as his life’s profession. Isaac Connely, who started the Cross C Ranch back in the late 1860s, had bought other
ranches in the area over the years. Seth managed the Straight Arrow Ranch and its Morgan horse herd.

  Nolan had ridden countless horses during his years in the cavalry, but none matched the ride and loyalty of a horse trained by Seth.

  Would he have time to ride much after taking over his grandparent’s café? Might be something he’d have to prioritize after he settled in. Nolan was going to have problems being inside working all the time after spending years riding the open lands of the Territory of Montana.

  Not for the first time, he wondered if he was making the right decision in going back to Kansas, but he’d promised his grandparents, so he would stand by his word.

  He could barely see the train in the heavy snow as he approached the depot platform. Would the train stay here for the night or try to plow through the snow to the next little town?

  The depot door opened up just as he stomped up the steps of the platform. He couldn’t see the men’s faces with their hats bent as they headed into the storm, but he recognized their voices, being the two who had bothered Miss Brandt in the café.

  Why did men like those two have to be mean to others? Nolan guessed they’d kick a dog just to laugh at his surprised yelp.

  The depot waiting area was full of passengers trying to stay warm by the pot-bellied stove. Nolan felt guilty opening the outside door of the depot, knowing he’d let in more cold and snow.

  He approached the depot agent’s window, knowing the man had spent his morning answering the same questions repeatedly.

  “Sorry to ask, but any word on the train’s departure?” The agent may have made an announcement to the people waiting in the depot, but he’d missed it since he’d been helping at the café.

  “Engineer said he’s waiting until morning, so make yourself comfortable in the depot, or over at the church. Reverend Nelson said people could stretch out in the pews to sleep there tonight.

  “Your choice for food is Mrs. Randolph’s café or buys some crackers or tinned food at Carson’s Mercantile. Our town is too small to have any other choice.”

  Nolan nodded, guessing a person could see practically the whole town from the depot platform on a clear day.

  “My haversack and clothing bag are still in the rail car. Can I go get those?”

  “Yes, but don’t plan on staying in the car overnight. We aren’t going to keep the cars’ stoves going tonight.”

  “What about the luggage car?” Nolan had a small trunk with all his earthly belongings in it and didn’t want to lug it to the church if he didn’t have to.

  “Already locked up, so whatever you have in it is safe for the night.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Nolan walked away from the agent’s window and looked around the waiting room. There wasn’t a seat available, and the few children on the train were already getting restless. It was going to be a long night for those children and their parents.

  Nolan quickly opened and closed the door to the platform, hunching up his shoulders to keep snow from blowing down the back of his coat.

  Shoot. Why was his neck so cold? Where was his wool neck scarf? Had he left it at the café or was it still on the train? Did he have it on when he left the train this morning?

  Nolan walked the short distance to the rail car he’d been riding in, went up the steps, and let himself in the car. He could already see his breath as he walked down the aisle to where he’d sat. Nolan reached up to pull his two bags off the shelf above his seat, and set them on the bench, then checking on the shelf and underneath the seat, hoping to see his scarf. No luck. Either someone had taken it, or he’d left it at the café.

  He planned to take shelter in the church for the night so he’d stop by the café to check on his scarf. Nolan wouldn’t mind revisiting the women, so this would be his excuse.

  Nolan stepped into the café door and heard voices coming from the café’s kitchen. He spied his scarf still on a hook and took it down to wrap around his neck. He’d walk down to the church and not bother the women since they were busy.

  He paused when it sounded like a chair had fallen on the floor.

  “No, I don’t, so please leave the café!”

  Nolan didn’t hesitate a second, knowing it wasn’t just the two women conversing in the kitchen. He could hear men’s voices talking now.

  He pulled his revolver before pulling the swinging door his way to confront the situation. He didn’t want to be hit with the door if someone was on their way out, or if Miss Brandt was standing on the other side.

  “I suggest you leave like the woman asked,” Nolan growled when he saw the same men who had been taunting Miss Brandt during the lunch hour.

  “Well, if it isn’t the soldier boy,” Ronald greeted him with a sneer.

  “Why do you have a gun pulled on us, Soldier?”

  “Because it sounded like you were trying to do harm to this woman.”

  “Oh no. We just came in to see if she had some of that good dessert left.” Nolan saw Miss Brandt shudder, her eyes darting between the men on either side of her. They had her trapped before Nolan came in. What had they planned to do? Hurt, or rob her since they knew she’d just taken in a lot of cash at noon?

  “Where’s Mrs. Randolph? She alright?” Nolan asked as he held out his left hand indicating to Miss Brandt to come over to him.

  “She’s...fine. She went back upstairs,” Miss Brandt said as she slid between the two men and stood next to him.

  “Good. Did you have any dessert leftover for these men to buy?”

  Miss Brandt shook her head sideways. “No, and I had already told them that, but they wouldn’t leave.”

  “Well, then gentlemen, I suggest you leave now. The train is staying overnight, so this lady needs to start this evening’s meal.”

  “Then we’ll be back to enjoy whatever you fix for supper, Ma’am,” the talker tipped his hat to Miss Brandt.

  “Let’s go check out the mercantile while we wait, Griffin.” He waved his hand indicating his friend should walk by Nolan first.

  Nolan pushed Miss Brandt back behind him and then backed them into the dining room, keeping the revolver trained on the men.

  “Hey, you can put the gun down. We’re leaving like you asked.” The man named Griffin said with a grin. He strolled to the door, opened it for his friend to walk through, then left himself, leaving the door wide open for the cold wind and snow to blow in.

  Nolan hastily closed and locked the door before turning to Miss Brandt. “Do you have any law in this town I should notify about these men?”

  Miss Brandt drew in a shaky breath before answering. “All we have is Sheriff Randal Matters in this area, but they didn’t hurt me, just bullied me.”

  “I know they were on the train, so they should be leaving when the train departs tomorrow, but in the meantime, I worry about you and Mrs. Randolph. Would you mind me staying to prepare and serve this evening’s meal with you? I’m guessing you’ll have a full dining room again.” Nolan hoped she’d say, “Yes, please” because he’d really like to spend a few more hours with her. Simply put, Miss Brandt intrigued him, and he wanted to pass the rest of the day in her company.

  “I believe Mrs. Randolph would appreciate it, but I need to let her know about the train passengers spending the night.”

  “I’ll sit down in the dining room and wait for you to return. Better yet, can I bring in more wood for the dining room and kitchen stoves?” Nolan hoped there was a woodpile already stacked against the back of the building, but he’d chop wood if need be.

  “We’d appreciate that. One of the neighbor boys takes care of this chore for us, but he hasn’t shown up today.

  “The wood pile is by the back door, covered with a canvas tarp. Don’t be surprised if you awaken a rat or squirrel when you move the tarp and wood.”

  Nolan was glad to see the woman smile again after being cornered by the men.

  “We always know when young Billy uncovers the stack because his dog is along and barks as the critters run.�
�

  “Thanks for warning me. I’d hate for a mouse to run up my trouser leg,” Nolan grinned as he wrapped his scarf around his neck and opened the back door to get the wood.

  Nolan was bringing in his fourth armload of wood when Miss Brandt came downstairs again. With this area’s harsh winter weather, it made sense that the stairs to the upstairs apartment was inside the building, rather than on the outside, like most buildings in Clear Creek’s downtown.

  He noticed she’d re-braided her hair because it was smooth and sleek again. Nolan’s fingers itched to feel its silky texture. He couldn’t tell if it would be coarse or fine, but for some reason, he wanted to know.

  “Mrs. Randolph said to tell you to thank you for your help again this evening.”

  “Did you tell her about the men who were here earlier?”

  “No. I didn’t want to worry her. Not that it’s a regular occurrence, but it’s happened before since I’m a...”

  “Beautiful woman,” Nolan couldn’t help finishing her sentence differently than what he knew she was thinking.

  They stood in awkward silence a moment before Nolan cleared his throat. “Since we’re working together, please call me Nolan. May I call you by your first name?”

  “Of course. My first name is Holly.”

  “Can I guess you were born in December?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I knew a family with three girls, all born in December. Merry, spelled M-E-R-R-Y, as in Merry Christmas, was born on Christmas Day. Her sister, Carol, was born on the 30th, so she was their ‘Christmas Carol.’

  “Then Holly was named for her mother’s favorite Christmas song. Deck the halls with boughs of holly...” Nolan sang the first line of the song, pleased to see Holly’s faint smile.

  “Was I right? Were you born in December?”

  “Yes, I must admit my father named me Holly for that reason.”

  May I ask what your middle name is then? Hopefully not something like Holly Berry, or Holly Bush.”

  She laughed at his lame joke. “It’s Holly Elizabeth, named after my grandmother.”