Mail-Order Groom. Lisa Plumley

shoulders. It was possible her fiancé had already sent her an explanation for his tardiness. Her helper, Mose, might be receiving her fiancé’s romantic, apology-filled message at the station even now.

      At the notion, Savannah felt somewhat cheered. She breathed in deeply, then took a final look at the train—just in case, for she was nothing if not meticulous. When her pen pal did not miraculously alight from the car, she turned away … only to find the station clerk’s sympathetic gaze pinned on her.

      “Too bad,” he said kindly. “Disappointed again?”

      Mutely Savannah stared at him. For the first time it occurred to her how foolish she’d been. She never should have allowed her hopes to draw her into town day after day.

      “I’m sorry,” the clerk said. “If you’re looking for someone particular on the 10:12, maybe I can help you, Miss …?”

      Reed. Savannah Reed. He wanted to know her name, she knew, but Savannah had all the reasons in the world not to share it.

      At least not until she could change it in marriage.

      Thanks to her position at the isolated telegraph station—where few people had cause to visit, much less to wonder about its new operator—Savannah had kept her identity a secret in Morrow Creek … at least so far. She wanted to keep it that way.

      Reed was a common enough name, she reminded herself. For now, its ordinariness would likely protect her. Especially in the absence of any other potentially damning information.

      “I’m Joseph Abernathy.” He gave her a smile—a speculative, curious-looking smile. “I don’t think we’ve met. Why don’t you come on over? Maybe I can help track down your tardy traveler.”

      “Thank you, but I—I’m in a terrible rush.” Why had she let herself be drawn in this way? The station clerk seemed friendly, but word traveled fast in a small Western town like Morrow Creek. The more people she spoke with, the more difficult it would be to keep her secret. “I’m sorry. Please excuse me!”

      Wearing her most harried expression, Savannah bustled away. She heard Joseph Abernathy calling after her, but she didn’t dare stop. She wasn’t ready to befriend anyone. Not yet.

      Her high-buttoned shoes clopped across the platform as she pushed her way between the few lingering travelers. Once she’d reached a safe distance from Mr. Abernathy, Savannah relaxed. She allowed the anxious look to leave her face. Methodically she let her shoulders fall in their usual position. She eased her steps to a normal pace, then permitted her breathing to slow.

      Almost home free. If she were smart, she’d still hurry, despite being clear of Mr. Abernathy’s inquisitive gaze. Mose was not as skilled at recognizing the various telegraph operators’ signatures as she was. Her beau’s distinctive manner of tapping out a message might go by unnoticed if she weren’t there to hear it. Raising her skirts, Savannah headed for the street.

      She almost tripped over the little girl in her path.

      “Oh, pardon me!” Savannah said. “I’m so sorry.”

      The child gaped up. She stood alone, her blond hair in pigtails and her face wet with tears. She clutched a satchel.

      “Have you seen my mama? She was right there—” she pointed with a shaky, chubby finger “—but now she’s gone.”

      “I—no, I’m sorry.” Feeling rushed, Savannah cast a hasty glance around the platform. She saw no likely looking adults nearby. Knowing it was probably unwise to call further attention to herself, she nonetheless crouched beside the girl. She offered an encouraging smile. “Perhaps you could describe her to me?”

      A sniffle. “Well …” The girl sucked in a breath and attempted a description. Her halting words were interrupted by choking sobs and another mighty sniffle. “M-M-Mama is—”

      “All right.” Frowning in commiseration, Savannah raised her hand toward the child’s face. She flipped her wrist—a move borne of long practice—then brightly withdrew a handkerchief. “Use this, then try again.”

      The little girl’s sobs abruptly stopped. Wide-eyed, she pointed. “You pulled that out of my ear!“

      Savannah shrugged. “I thought you could use it.”

      “Do it again! Do it again!”

      Savannah smiled. When she’d been a girl, she’d been amazed by that trick, too. “Maybe after we find your mother. Let’s—”

      “Wait, there she is! And Papa, too!” the girl shouted.

      She raced across the platform at full tilt, then threw her arms around a relieved-looking woman carrying a lace-edged parasol. Beside the woman, a gentleman in a fine suit smiled at his daughter. He lowered his hand to caress her pigtails.

      At the gesture, Savannah nearly sighed. She wished her mail-order groom were as dashing and caring as that little girl’s father. Her fiancé was on the decidedly plain side—at least if his modest descriptions of himself were to be believed—and his avowed affection for tinned beans was hardly awe-inspiring. But he was solid and good, Savannah reminded herself sternly. She didn’t care what his outsides looked like, as long as his insides came outfitted with a loving heart.

      And as long as he arrived soon.

      It wasn’t as though she were marrying for love. Not yet, at least. She could afford to skimp on a few of the luxuries.

      “. and that lady helped me! She can do magic tricks!”

      At the sound of the girl’s voice, Savannah brightened. She smiled at the reunited family … only to be greeted by frowns.

      They could see. They’d guessed the truth about her.

      Savannah’s alarm was immediate and unthinking. She stared down at herself, trying to figure out the problem. Was her dress too bright, too new, too showy? Was her manner too forward?

      Before she could reason out the trouble, the girl’s father disentangled himself from his daughter’s grasp. He strode toward Savannah. For one cowardly moment, she considered running away.

      But then she lifted her chin instead.

      She hadn’t come all the way west just to be frightened off by a good-looking man with an expensive hat and an authoritative demeanor. Even if he did remind her of Warren, that dastardly—

      “Miss, thank you for watching over my daughter.”

      He pressed something in her gloved palm. Reflexively Savannah tried to give it back, but the man wouldn’t allow her to. With a warmhearted smile, he closed her fingers around the object. He tipped his hat, then rejoined his happy family.

      For a moment, Savannah could only watch them as they walked away from the platform together. In the warm glow of the summer sunshine, they seemed to embody everything she’d ever wanted—a family, a sense of belonging … a reason to smile that felt true.

      Well, soon enough she’d have all that.

      She’d have all that and more, Savannah assured herself. If only she stayed faithful to her plan, she could achieve every dream she’d ever had, right here in a sun-splashed territory where no one knew her family or her past—and no one ever would.

      Determinedly she shifted her gaze. She uncurled her fingers. In the center of her palm, a silver coin winked up.

      Hmm. Evidently she’d erred too far on the dowdy side.

      That was interesting. She’d tried to appear a simple Morrow Creek woman … and had only succeeded in appearing impoverished.

      Before she returned to town, she’d have to remedy that. It was fortunate her costume trunk was deep—and had survived the trip from New York City mostly unharmed, thanks to Mose’s help.

      Drawing up her skirts, Savannah aimed one final glance at the disappointing train, then headed in