Ingrid (Walker Creek Brides Book 2)
Ingrid
Walker Creek Brides, Book 2
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: 978-1-943644-33-9
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
LILY
Also by Miriam Minger
About the Author
Chapter 1
June, 1887
Walker Creek, Texas
“May I go now, Miss Hagen? I’ve written what you wanted me to on the blackboard fifty times.”
Ingrid nodded. She felt so miserable that she’d been made to punish seven-year-old David Logan, but she hadn’t known what else to do.
The boy had seemed bent today upon cutting up in class, not reading his lessons, yanking the girls’ pigtails, and knocking other children’s books off the desks. Here she had started as a teacher’s assistant one week ago, and then Mrs. Jahn, the regular schoolteacher, had suddenly become ill. Ingrid had taken her place for the foreseeable future—and already she was faced with a discipline problem!
“Remember to tell your father why you’re late coming home,” Ingrid instructed David as he made his way to the front of the one-room limestone schoolhouse without so much as a backward glance. She thought she heard him murmur a “Yes, ma’am,” but she couldn’t be sure. As he bolted out the door, she sank with a sigh into her chair and stared at the handwriting on the blackboard.
I will not misbehave in school.
Five rows of ten sentences written in neat penmanship that seemed truly incongruous with David’s disorderly antics, making Ingrid shake her head.
She felt terrible, too, that his five-year-old sister, Emily, as sweet as an angel, had left the schoolhouse in tears without her brother, to be walked home by several of her solemn-faced classmates. Ingrid could just imagine what Sheriff Joshua Logan might think to see his young daughter in distress, but what was she to do? How was she to teach a schoolhouse filled with children of disparate ages when she couldn’t encourage one boy to sit at his desk and mind his lessons?
Feeling like an utter failure at the ripe old age of twenty, Ingrid contemplated locking up the schoolhouse to walk home herself where she might retire to her room for some welcome solitude. Well, it wasn’t really her home, but where she and her eighteen-year-old siblings, the twins Anita and Andreas, had taken up residence at the generous insistence of Caleb Walker, who had turned out to be their older sister Kari’s true father.
A big white house with a wraparound porch for sitting in the evenings and a bedroom for each of them, and a kindly older Mexican woman to cook their meals and several servants to do the chores. Never would Ingrid have thought when Kari left Faribault, Minnesota, at the end of April to deliver a sealed letter from their late mother, Lara, to Caleb—as he preferred to be called—that life would take such a startling turn, but so it had.
Arne Hagen, their beloved father who had died three years ago, hadn’t been Kari’s blood relation at all. It had taken only a glance to see Kari’s striking resemblance to Caleb when Ingrid, Andreas, and Anita had arrived at Walker Creek Ranch, confirming the news that had stunned them in Faribault. They had been so eager to attend Kari’s wedding that they thought would be to a different gentleman, a new surprise in store mere moments after their arrival when she accepted a marriage proposal from another man altogether!
Now Kari was blissfully wed to Seth Davis, Caleb’s adopted nephew and the foreman at the ranch. The two had taken up residence in the main house while a home was being built for them, and Ingrid and the twins had moved into town.
It had seemed almost overnight that Caleb had arranged for Ingrid to assist Mrs. Jahn at the schoolhouse rather than work as a seamstress, and he had set up Andreas at a local blacksmith with the promise of his own shop when he completed his apprenticeship. That had left Anita to happily occupy herself with singing and acting lessons at the town’s playhouse under the tutelage of Mrs. Gertrude Rose, a retired actress Caleb had brought from San Antonio fifty miles away.
Ingrid had thought about returning to Minnesota with the twins after Kari and Seth’s wedding two and a half weeks ago, but she couldn’t deny that Caleb had done everything he could to make them feel welcome in Walker Creek and to encourage them to stay. Kari was thrilled to have them nearby, too, which made Ingrid feel a little better right now just thinking about her big sister. She loved Kari so much, and Kari had said their mother had asked Caleb to protect all of her children if he found it within his heart to do so—and clearly, he had.
Ingrid sighed as she rose from the chair in a soft swish of periwinkle blue calico.
The schoolroom was growing quite warm in spite of a breeze wafting through the open windows, and her face felt flushed. The wall clock read half past four, and the rest of the children had left at three o’clock. She had learned that school in Walker Creek ran year-round, except for a break at planting season and then harvest, but ended earlier during the hotter months.
Now Ingrid understood why, which made her hope she wouldn’t have to stay late again to discipline a wayward child as she went around the room and closed the windows.
Her thoughts flew back to Kari and Caleb, who had both been so pleased for Ingrid to assist at the schoolhouse, just as she’d done in Faribault. Truly, she didn’t want to disappoint them. Yet she’d never been the teacher before, all by herself, even though that had been her long-held dream. She loved children and had always built a rapport with them in the past, her shyness all but forgotten amidst the chalk dust, books, and shining faces.
“Oh, David, what am I going to do with you?” Ingrid said under her breath, wondering what she could do to reach the boy.
She went to the blackboard and picked up an eraser to wipe away his painstaking work, her heart going out to him. Clearly he was well beyond his peers in penmanship, which evidenced a keen intelligence and eagerness to learn—
“Did you strike my son with the rod, Miss Hagen?”
Ingrid gasped and spun around to face Sheriff Logan, who stood so tall and somber-faced in the doorway that she swallowed, hard. Dressed in black from his wide-brimmed hat to his boots, a shiny tin star pinned to his chest, he looked every inch an uncompromising lawman as he kept his gaze fixed upon her.
“R-rod?” Her face flame hot with mortification, Ingrid shook her head. “No, no, I’ve never struck your son—nor any child! Who told you such a terrible thing?”
The sheriff didn’t answer as he strode into the room. Ingrid took a startled step backward, her back pressed against the chalkboard. Her heart pounding, she watched wide-eyed as he drew closer until he stopped on the opposite side of her desk to stare beyond her shoulder.
“That’s Davy’s handwriting.”
She bobbed her head, unable to speak, truly ready to burst into tears.
Did he think her a monster? A witch? His gaze fell to the eraser in her hand, which shook now at the emotion overwhelming her.
She had encountered the man only once before at Kari and Seth’s wedding, when her sister had so kindly plucked a pink rose from her bouquet to give to little Emily. Sheriff Logan had stared at Ingrid then, but in a gentlemanly sort of way, making her blush furiously. She had thought him handsome with his dark brown hair and steel gray eyes, but now he just looked—angry. He studied her as if he didn’t fully believe her vehement denial, though his taut stance had eased.
“The moment I came home this afternoon to spend some time with my children, Emily started to cry. She said Davy had been acting up and was being punished—”
“He was—but never with the rod!” Ingrid blurted, astonishing herself as tears blurred her eyes. She felt so maligned, so unjustly accused, that her usual shyness at being addressed by most adults flew right out the window. “He left a short while ago after completing his punishment. It’s plain as day what he wrote, Sheriff Logan! I will not misbehave in school!”
Ingrid flung the eraser to the floor in a cloud of chalk dust and skirted the desk to rush past him, wiping away tears from her cheeks with trembling fingers.
“Miss Hagen!”
He hadn’t shouted at her, but had spoken with such stern authority that she imagined he thought she would stop dead in her tracks.
She didn’t stop. Instead she ran out the front door and down the wooden steps, not caring at all if she left the place unlocked. He was the town sheriff after all! Let him lock the door after himself!
Nearly blinded by angry tears and the bright afternoon sun, she hoisted her skirt and rushed on, slowing her pace only a little to keep from stumbling. Thankfully her home was only a few blocks from the schoolhouse, which was situated at one end of town, and she couldn’t wait to seek refuge in her room.
Odious, horrid man to have jumped to such a terrible conclusion about her! Overcome by indignation, Ingrid swiped damp tendrils of blond hair from her face that had come loose from the thick bun at her nape. She could feel sweat trickling down her back in the scorching heat.
Why, oh, why had she ever wanted to become a teacher? She couldn’t even keep control of one unruly boy—and now to have David’s father accuse her of inflicting corporal punishment on his son?
“Oh my, child, look out!”
Ingrid gasped, so lost in her tumultuous thoughts as she prepared to cross the street that she nearly ran into a diminutive elderly woman who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Only then did Ingrid hear the shrill neighing of horses, a loaded wagon rumbling by only inches from both of them.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” Ingrid cried, coughing from the dust thrown up from the wheels. “You just saved my life!”
Amazingly, her companion didn’t seem ruffled at all, not a silvery hair out of place beneath her trim brown bonnet.
“I’m fine, child, perfectly fine,” she said with a lilting Norwegian accent. “But you must take care to watch where you’re going from now on, will you promise me?”
Ingrid bobbed her head, still stunned by so close a call as the older woman smiled at her kindly. “I didn’t even see you standing there.”
“I know. Not so surprising when your mind is elsewhere. It’s easy to judge others when we’ve been sorely misjudged. Things are not always as they appear, child. Oh, my, he does look concerned, doesn’t he?”
He? Ingrid spun around to see Sheriff Logan dismount from his horse, a brown and white paint stallion, and come striding toward her.
“Miss Hagen, you could have been killed! It’s a miracle you stopped in time.”
She bristled, her cheeks still wet from tears caused by his baseless assumption. Yet before she could utter a word, he swept off his hat and stared at her solemnly.
“I apologize for distressing you. It was wrong of me to presume—”
“Yes, it was!” Ingrid spouted before he could finish, drawing herself up to face him squarely. “I’m doing my best for the children of Walker Creek, but it doesn’t help when I have a student intent upon disrupting class at every turn. I asked David to stay after school so I could speak to him in private, but he refused to say more than a few words to me! I had to devise some fair punishment—”
“Today is the anniversary of his mother’s death, Miss Hagen. My wife, Mary, one year ago. It’s no excuse for Davy’s misbehavior in class, but at least that explains it. Of course, being new here, you couldn’t have known…”
Ingrid stared at Sheriff Logan as he seemed to gaze into the distance for a moment, while she felt her breath had jammed in her chest.
The anniversary of David’s mother’s death? Ingrid had learned shortly after she arrived in Walker Creek that the sheriff was a widower when Caleb had shared some background about the town’s citizens, but not that his poor wife had died only a year ago.
Swamped with remorse, Ingrid saw grief etched into his rugged features, which made him appear older than the late twenties she guessed as his age. When he focused upon her face again, his eyes held unmistakable sadness that told her Sheriff Logan must have dearly loved his wife.
“I’m so sorry, truly,” Ingrid murmured, her heart aching for him as well as for his children. She felt sickened for having punished David, but she hadn’t known the reason behind his misconduct, just as his father had said. Yet it didn’t make her feel any less wretched for not trying harder to encourage the boy to open up to her. “Please tell David I hope he won’t be reluctant to come to school tomorrow.”
“He’ll be there bright and early, Miss Hagen, and he won’t cause any more trouble, I promise you.”
“Oh, no, Sheriff, you’re not going to discipline him, are you?” Ingrid stepped toward him, alarmed. “David must feel terrible as it is, what with his mother and all. If you’d allow me to accompany you, we could talk to him together. I want to assure him that I’m not upset and that we’ll start fresh in the morning like nothing happened at all—”
“Not upset?” Sheriff Logan cut her off bluntly, glancing down to brush chalk dust from his black trousers. “I’d hate to see you truly angry, Miss Hagen. You could have spared me some gray hair from seeing that wagon nearly run you down if you’d just stopped to hear my apology at the schoolhouse.”
She gaped at him, about to retort that if he hadn’t falsely accused her, she wouldn’t have stormed off like a wild hoyden. She didn’t have a chance, though, as he’d already donned his hat and turned back to his horse.
Ingrid heaved a sigh, feeling as if he had dismissed her without even acknowledging her offer to accompany him. She turned away, too, and focused instead on glancing up and down the street for the elderly woman who had saved her life, though Ingrid didn’t see her anywhere.
“Looking for someone?”
Ingrid spun to face Sheriff Logan, who had mounted his horse and steered the animal closer to where she stood on the wooden plank sidewalk. “If you must know, I wanted to thank the woman who cried out to warn me about the wagon.”
“What woman? I shouted out to you. Didn’t you hear me?”
“No, it wasn’t you at all. I nearly ran into her, that’s how close she stood to me. Surely you saw her, too.” Once again, Ingrid glanced around her, and then she shrugged as she used her hand to fan her face. “It’s warm today, isn’t it? June is never this hot in Minnesota. She must have ducked into one of the shops to find some shade. She saw you riding up, you know, and said you looked concerned—”
“I am concerned. You’re as red as a beet. Let me help you up.”
Taken by surprise, Ingrid glanced from his outstretched hand back to his face; truly, the man did appear tense. “Oh, no, Sheriff, I didn’t mean to ride with you. I thought we’d walk to your house to visit with David.”
“My house is at the opposite side of town. Take my hand, Miss Hagen, now! You’re no
t accustomed to this heat and it’s clear from all your fuming and running that you’re suffering from hallucinations—”
“Hallucinations? Whatever do you mean—oh!”
He leaned over and caught her around the waist so suddenly that Ingrid didn’t have a chance to wrest herself away.
Instead, she found herself hoisted up and settled crosswise in front of him before she could blink, one strong arm firmly holding her while he veered his horse out into the street.
Chapter 2
“Let me down, Sheriff, let me down!”
Outraged, Ingrid realized her shrill demand might have been a whisper for all he appeared to be listening to her, the man drawing her so tightly against him that she gasped.
“Stop your struggling, Miss Hagen,” came his terse response. “You’ll only overheat yourself even more.”
“I’m not overheated!” she protested, though she did cease her struggles when she realized the spectacle they must be making as passersby along the main street stopped to gape at them.
Oh, dear, how humiliating—and she was the town’s new teacher, too! She glanced at Sheriff Logan to find his jaw set and his eyes straight ahead, his grip tightening around her when he urged his horse by its name, Blaze, into a canter. Startled, she clutched at his shirt, certain that if he hadn’t held her so close she would have bounced right out of the saddle into the street.
“Joshua Logan, I assure you I’m fine!” she cried out, desperate to get his attention by using his given name. He did glance for an instant at her in surprise, and then he pressed Blaze to go even faster.
She could do nothing but cling to him for dear life as they careened off the main road past the Red Dog Saloon and onto a side street. Ingrid recognized the neat clapboard houses at once and realized he was taking her to see Kari’s father-in-law, Dr. Charles Davis.