Kari (Walker Creek Brides Book 1) Read online

  Kari

  Walker Creek Brides, Book 1

  Miriam Minger

  Copyright © 2019 by Miriam Minger

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-943644-32-2

  Published by Walker Publishing

  Series Bibliography

  WALKER CREEK BRIDES

  Kari

  Ingrid

  Lily

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  INGRID

  Also by Miriam Minger

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  May, 1887

  Near Walker Creek, Texas

  “Child, if you clutch that letter any tighter, there’ll be nothing left of it.”

  Kari Hagen started in surprise from looking out the window at the rolling countryside to noticing the tiny wisp of an elderly woman seated opposite her.

  She had been so lost in her whirling thoughts, every clack of the train tracks carrying her closer to her destination, she hadn’t realized anyone had joined her in the dining car. The woman’s gaze as kind as her countenance, Kari nodded and mustered a smile in spite of her mounting apprehension.

  “Yes, ma’am, thank you.” Kari loosed her grip on the letter, smoothing it upon the white-clothed table.

  Her mother, Lara’s letter.

  Written only hours before her death to a stranger so far away from their home in Faribault, Minnesota, that to Kari, he might as well have lived upon the moon.

  A stranger her mother had known and loved years ago, before she’d met Kari’s father, Arne Hagen.

  A stranger who had written her mother letters over the years that Lara had never answered except for the first one to say she had wed another man and to please forget her. Letters from Walker Creek, Texas, that Lara had cast into the hearth fire without reading out of respect for her husband and their marriage.

  Kari had known nothing about this stranger until the morning her mother died, though Lara had revealed little else than that she’d saved enough money over the years for train fare to Texas.

  Train fare for Kari to convey the letter personally to this stranger, who must have meant so much to her mother for her to have made such a startling request.

  Kari could not forget the shock and confusion upon the faces of her two younger sisters and brother: Ingrid and the twins, Anita and Andreas. To use so great a sum for train fare to hand-deliver a letter rather than to simply mail it when the family had so little? It had made no sense, but Lara had made all of them swear to honor her dying wish.

  Now Kari was on the final leg of a journey that had taken days while her siblings had been left behind to do the best they could without her. At twenty-one, she was the eldest after all. The sister they had looked up to during their mother’s long illness though they weren’t so far apart in age, Ingrid, only a year younger, and Anita and Andreas just turned eighteen.

  Had they paid the rent for their small house on time? Had they bought the supplies Kari had carefully listed with what was left over that must see them through another month?

  With her and her sisters working as seamstresses and Andreas a blacksmith’s apprentice, they had managed to make ends meet, but just barely. When their father had died three years ago and they had lost their homestead to the bank, the family had moved into town where they had eked out a living. Yet without her, there was one less pair of hands to mend and sew—dear God, please preserve their family until she returned home!

  With a heavy sigh, Kari realized she clutched the letter again. She glanced apologetically at the elderly woman who gazed at her with such understanding that Kari felt tears burn her eyes.

  “It’s best for now that you slip that letter back into your reticule. Holding onto it won’t help you to discern its contents. You must be patient, child, and always remember to trust in the Lord with all your heart…even in your darkest moments.”

  Her companion’s softly spoken words a soothing balm to her heart, Kari nodded though she felt a bit startled, too. The envelope was sealed, but how did the woman know that Kari had no idea as to what might have been written?

  “Forgive me,” she murmured, obliging her and slipping the letter into her reticule. “I haven’t introduced myself. Miss Kari Hagen.”

  “Kari. Such a lovely name. It’s mine, too, you know. Were you christened after someone special?”

  A soft twinkle lit the woman’s blue eyes, and now Kari didn’t feel as startled as strangely warmed by her companion’s revelation.

  “My mother’s great-aunt. My grandmother died in childbirth so Tante Kari helped to raise my mother until she passed away when Mama was six. She loved her so. Mama always made Tante Kari’s cardamom cake for special occasions…well, until she became too ill.”

  Kari fell silent, touched again by the kind compassion in the woman’s gaze.

  For the first time, she really looked at her and noted the trim brown bonnet set atop her silvery hair and her matching dress of a style from many decades past that Kari had once seen in a book. The woman spoke with a lilting accent like she hadn’t been born in America but newly arrived from the old country, Norway, though her English was impeccable.

  “You’re bound for Walker Creek?”

  “Yes, the next stop.” Kari glanced out the window to see rooftops above the trees in the distance even as a sudden blast of the train whistle made her jump.

  “Ah, no time left even for a cup of tea. Shall we return to our seats?”

  Kari nodded and rose to her feet, feeling flustered now as the brakes began to squeal shrilly while the train slowed.

  She had arrived at last in Walker Creek, where she intended to deliver her mother’s letter to one Mr. Caleb Walker and then board another train to head north as soon as she earned enough as a seamstress for the fare. How her beloved mother must have scrimped and saved to provide her with money for a one-way ticket!

  Once again her mind swirled with questions about where she might find respectable lodging and whether this Mr. Walker would introduce her to womenfolk who might be in need of a seamstress—and she realized with a start that she had hurried from the dining car without even a word of farewell to her kindly companion. She spun around, but the other Kari was nowhere to be seen. The elderly woman must be spry indeed to have retreated to the opposite passenger car so quickly.

  It seemed in no time at all that she had been helped from the train by a porter, her one satchel placed on the platform next to her, Kari looking around as other passengers disembarked. She didn’t see her dining car companion, though, and reasoned the older woman must be traveling on to a further destination.

  A wild neighing caught Kari’s attention as a magnificent dappled gray stallion was guided down a wooden ramp from one of the stock cars at the rear of the train. Three men in rough clothing attended to the nervous creature, while off to one side stood a tall, lean gentleman who appeared from his
wide-brimmed black hat to his dusty boots a real Texas cowboy.

  At least what Kari had read about cowboys, one of her few pleasures visiting the tiny library in Faribault to borrow books to read by lantern light after the day’s work was done. A leather vest covering his dark-colored shirt, smooth leather chaps worn over blue denims, a red bandana around his neck, a gun belt slung around his hips, the man wore it all! She knew she stared at him, but she couldn’t help herself. He might have stepped right out of the pages of one of her books.

  He was handsome, too, undeniably so, and perhaps in his mid-twenties, she guessed. When he suddenly spied her looking at him and tipped his hat to her, Kari coughed with embarrassment and spun around. Oh, dear, what must he think of such bold, unladylike behavior?

  Her face burning, Kari picked up her satchel and kept her back turned as she pondered her next move. She needed to start asking where she might find Caleb Walker, but the passengers who had disembarked had met their parties and gone on their way.

  With an ear-splitting blast of the whistle, the train rolled into motion and disappeared down the tracks in a cloud of acrid smoke, leaving Kari alone.

  The town didn’t boast a train depot, only what appeared to be a one-room office further down the platform. She supposed she could start there…

  Seth Davis signaled for his men to secure the stallion to the wagon and then glanced back at the platform.

  That little miss with long silken curls the color of honey still stood by herself as if wondering what to do.

  He’d never seen her before and if he had, he would have remembered her. Walker Creek didn’t lack for pretty women, but this one was downright fetching in her blue calico dress and embroidered shawl. Maybe standing an inch over five feet, she was a tiny thing but well-proportioned in all the right places—doggone it, and he wasn’t the only one that had noticed!

  Seth scowled as Dirk Brodie, a brawny hired hand from a neighboring ranch, straightened from stacking supplies unloaded from the train and sauntered toward the young woman.

  Seth could just imagine what Dirk must be thinking, which shamed him because he was guilty of appraising her, too. In three long strides he caught up with Dirk and then passed him, Dirk’s startled expletive causing the young woman to wheel around in alarm.

  “Forgive me, miss,” Seth broke in before Dirk could utter another word, sweeping off his hat. “I’m Seth Davis. If you’ll allow me, I’d be happy to assist you—”

  “Blast you, Seth, just because you work for Caleb Walker doesn’t mean you own the place! Back off, I saw her first!”

  Seth saw the blow coming and dodged just in time, punching Dirk so forcefully in the stomach that the bigger man dropped to his knees.

  Meanwhile, the young woman stared at both of them as if she’d never seen such wild behavior before, her stunning blue eyes as wide as saucers. Her gaze flew from Dirk, crumpled now onto the platform and moaning in pain, to Seth’s face, her expression a curious mix of horror and incredulity.

  “Y-you work for Caleb Walker?”

  He nodded, donning his hat again. “Yes, ma’am. I apologize for the ruckus and so does Dirk Brodie here”—Seth sharply nudged his prone opponent with his boot, Dirk uttering a hoarse apology before rolling onto his other side. “Like I said, if you’d allow me to assist you. Are you waiting for someone? I know most everybody around here—”

  “I’m here to see Mr. Walker. Please, if you work for him, you must know where to find him.”

  Now Seth felt like he had been punched in the gut, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. He didn’t know if it was the way she’d asked him with a particular timbre in her voice or the composition of her features, but suddenly he felt like he had seen her before. Oddly enough, something told him the day was about to become a whole lot more interesting than fetching a prize stallion from the train station.

  “He’s my uncle—well, adopted uncle,” Seth added. “His family founded this town. Speaking of names, would you mind sharing yours?”

  “Oh, yes, forgive me! I’m Kari Hagen…Miss Kari Hagen. I’ve come all the way from Minnesota with a letter for him, but I must give it to him personally. It was my mother’s last request! Will you help me?”

  Would he help her? If he’d felt gut-punched a moment ago, now he felt strangely like he was melting inside at the soft pleading in her eyes. A man could drown in those eyes and never want to be revived…

  Seth cleared his throat, realizing he’d been standing there struck dumb and looking like a fool. As Dirk rolled to his feet and stumbled back to his supplies, Seth nodded and reached out to take her satchel.

  “I’d be happy to, Miss Hagen, I’m heading to my uncle’s ranch now. He’s anxious to see that stallion.”

  That’s not all he’s going to see, Seth found himself thinking as she relinquished her satchel to him and accepted his proffered arm.

  The moment she touched him, her small hand lightly resting on his forearm, he felt a surge of protectiveness unlike anything he’d known before. He threw a dark warning look at Dirk as they passed by him, and took care to walk at a slower pace than his usual long-legged stride so as not to rush her.

  Already his men had boarded the wagon, the stallion tied to the back and impatiently tossing its head. Seth’s own horse, a big muscular bay he called Henry, stood tethered nearby. One sharp glance from Seth made his three ranch hands quickly rearrange themselves, leaving the driver’s seat empty.

  Excusing himself for a moment from Kari’s side, Seth handed her satchel to one of the men while another climbed out of the wagon and mounted Henry to ride him home. Stunned by how much he missed the gentle pressure of her hand on his arm, Seth turned back to her and gestured to the driver’s seat.

  “It’s not elegant, but the ride out to my uncle’s place is a pretty one. Have you been to Texas before, Miss Hagen?”

  She shook her head no, a rosy blush firing her cheeks as she glanced from him to the wagon as if anticipating he was going to have to lift her onto the seat.

  And lift her, he did, without another moment’s hesitation, his hands easily spanning her waist and his heart skipping a beat at her startled gasp to find herself swept from her feet. To Seth, she felt lighter than air, the soft swoosh of her petticoat and the faintest scent of lilac overwhelming his senses as he settled her gently on the seat.

  The wagon creaked beneath his own weight as he took his place beside her and unhooked the reins, clucking his tongue to the two packhorses. Kari gasped again when they jolted into motion, and he slipped his arm through hers to steady her.

  “The road’s bumpy, Miss Hagen. Do you mind me holding onto you?”

  Chapter 2

  Mind? Kari had never felt more protected in her life, Seth Davis’s solicitous attention more than she would have ever expected from a rough-and-tumble cowboy.

  She wondered what he must think that she would trust him so implicitly, considering she had only just met him, but she did. She murmured, “I don’t mind at all,” and then quickly looked away, her face growing flushed again.

  Why, her cheeks hadn’t stopped burning since she’d first laid her hand on his arm. An arm steely with muscle—oh, my goodness, no wonder he’d so easily felled that other man with one punch!

  In truth, she felt her heart racing, which had never happened to her before. If she didn’t know better, she might think the warm day had affected her, Texas weather in early May so different than back home.

  Yes, the grass was green again in Faribault and daffodils blooming, yet the air had still been cool when she’d left a week ago, muddy patches of snow melting in ditches beside the roads.

  In Walker Creek, the sun shone brightly in a cloudless blue sky, and she wished she’d thought to bring a parasol with her. The small bonnet she wore gave her little protection, and she knew that soon her face would be sunburned. With her free hand, she untied her shawl and let it slip from her shoulders to the seat.

  “It’s a warm day, to be sure. Reckon this s
ummer’s going to be a hot one. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to be here very long,” she blurted, feeling a sudden tension in Seth’s arm. “I’ve two younger sisters and a brother back home who need me. As soon as I deliver my letter to Mr. Walker and earn enough money doing some sewing for my train fare, I’ll be heading right back to Faribault.”

  Seth said nothing in response to her outburst, instead flicking the reins as the wagon rumbled along a dirt road that appeared to skirt the town. She glanced up at him, but he seemed deep in thought, a furrow between his dark brows.

  His hair was dark, too, not black or brown, but somewhere in between, and brushed the collar of his shirt. Truly, she’d never seen anyone that looked like him before, and certainly no man as handsome.

  She knew she was staring, but she couldn’t seem to help herself, Kari studying him from his deeply tanned skin and strong profile to the angular cut of his jaw. She inhaled in surprise when he met her eyes, his arm looped through hers drawing her a little bit closer.

  “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed to hear that, Miss Hagen. You’ve made quite an impression on me…if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  Oh, dear, she should mind, no man had ever spoken so forthrightly to her before—ever! Yet his deep voice had been so sincere she did not doubt for a moment that he meant it.

  Suddenly Kari felt tongue-tied and foolish, transfixed by his dark blue eyes that stared so directly into her own. He appeared about to say something else when a sharp whinny cut through the air, the stallion beginning to buck behind the wagon.