A Pony Express Christmas. Rhonda Gibson

and Will pushed back their chairs to do as they were told.

      Leah’s soft voice stopped them. “I can take them.” She set the little girl down and was on her feet in an instant.

      “Oh, no, you won’t.” Mrs. Frontz set a bowl of steaming stew on the table and took Leah’s arm. “You are going to sit right here and warm up while I feed you both. Then we’ll send you off to your beds.”

      Jake hid his smile as he watched Leah do as she was told. Agnes Frontz was a hardworking woman who always got her way. She cooked and cleaned up after the riders and expected them to obey her every word.

      She wasn’t hard on them, but she did like to mother them. It looked as if Leah Hollister was about to receive the same treatment.

      Jake picked up two of the bags he’d brought in earlier. The first time he’d seen the cases, with Mrs. Hollister standing in the middle of them, it had scared ten years off his life. He’d called to her that the rider was coming, and for a split second Jake had thought she was deaf or something. She’d stood as still as a statue before her sense had kicked in and she’d grabbed up the child and raced for the cabin.

      Her soft voice stopped him at the foot of the stairs. “Mr. Bridges?” He heard a catch in her throat.

      Jake turned. “Yes?”

      Her words came out in a rush. “I’d like to speak with you alone.”

      His head shot up and a light eyebrow cocked upward. She returned his gaze, a determined glint in the eyes that stared unblinkingly back at him. Her hand gently stroked the little girl’s hair.

      “I’m not sure alone is a very good idea,” Mrs. Frontz announced.

      Jake nodded and handed the bags to Will, who juggled them but continued up the stairs. He looked to the older woman. Jake knew Mrs. Frontz meant well, but from the determined look on Mrs. Hollister’s face, Jake felt he needed to hear her out. “We’ll be over by the fireplace, Mrs. Frontz. If you don’t mind taking care of the child for a moment, I’m interested in Miss Hollister’s business with me.” He walked toward the big overstuffed chair that sat beside the fireplace.

      Mrs. Hollister looked to Mrs. Frontz, who simply shrugged her approval. Leah placed her napkin on the table. “Thank you for watching Molly. I promise this won’t take long.”

      Jake leaned against the rocks of the fireplace and waited. He couldn’t help but be curious. What could she possibly want to talk to him about? They were strangers.

      Her soft skirts swished across the wood floors. Leah Hollister was a beautiful woman. She held herself with regal grace as she approached him but her sea-blue eyes betrayed the unease she felt. She was probably the most eye-catching woman he’d ever seen. How long would she be staying?

      For a moment he allowed himself to imagine what marrying a woman like her would be like. He pushed the thought away. Jake had no business thinking about women, period. He’d decided a long time ago to keep his distance from them. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the fairer sex, but he’d learned from past experience that they couldn’t be trusted.

      Today should have been his wedding anniversary. Instead his brother, John, was celebrating his own marriage. Five years ago, his brother and Jake’s fiancée, Sally, had ripped his heart out. The betrayal had been almost more than he could bear. An hour before they were to meet at the church for Sally and Jake’s wedding, Sally had arrived at the Bridges’ farm. She had stood with her head down, not looking him in the eyes, while his older brother wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and confessed that they’d married that morning in the wee hours of dawn.

      Hurt by his brother’s betrayal and the loss of Sally’s love, Jake had taken the bag he’d packed for his honeymoon and left. Since his parents had already moved on to be with the Lord, he knew John and Sally would take over the small farm. There was no place for him there any longer. He’d not looked back, except once a year to reflect on the pain his heart had endured and to vow never to allow another woman into it again.

      Maybe he was a fool, but Jake had taken the time to write his brother and tell him where he’d landed over the years. Jake had asked that they not write back unless he was truly needed and John had abided by his request.

      Jake had determined in his heart that he’d never fall in love again. It hurt too much when the one you loved betrayed you.

      Once she was seated, Leah spoke, pulling him from his sad thoughts. “Please, Mr. Bridges, sit down. I really don’t want to crane my neck to speak to you.”

      She seemed to have the upper hand in the conversation, so Jake did as she asked. He sat down on the footstool with his back turned away from the dining table where Mrs. Frontz and Molly waited. He could hear the older woman speaking to the child. Jake turned his attention to Leah. “All right, I’m sitting. What is it you have to say to me?”

      Leah dug into the pocket of her dress and pulled out an envelope. He watched her swallow as she looked down at the cream-colored paper. “I think it would be best if I just give this to you. Then you can ask me any questions you’d like.”

      He nodded his agreement and took the packet. Dread filled him as he turned it over. To: Jake Bridges. From: John Bridges was written across the front of the envelope.

      What could his brother have to say that hadn’t been said the day he’d left? He’d claimed to love Sally and couldn’t live without her. He’d begged Jake to understand and asked him to reconsider leaving. But none of that mattered. John and Sally had betrayed him and he couldn’t face them, not yet, maybe never.

      But why had John sent a letter with a complete stranger? He looked up at Leah Hollister. He saw sorrow in her eyes and a deeper sense of dread filled him as he slid his finger under the sealed flap and opened the envelope.

      He forced his gaze from her eyes and focused on the letter.

      Dear Jake,

      By the time you get this letter I will be dead. Sally passed away last night and the illness that took her has now consumed me, as well. I am writing this letter in hopes that you have forgiven us by now and that you will not hold our daughter, Molly, accountable for the harm that we did to you. Please take care of my daughter and love her as if she were your own.

      John

      More lines had been added below John’s signature but Jake couldn’t bring himself to read them, not yet. He stood and walked to the fireplace. He was thankful Miss Hollister didn’t say anything as he passed her.

      As surely as if someone had closed their hand about his throat, he felt the air squeeze from his lungs. Time had passed and with it the life of his brother. Never would Jake be able to make amends. He felt hot tears burn the backs of his eyes at what he’d lost and what his stubborn pride had cost him.

      That same pride forced him to read the elegantly printed lines below his brother’s. He flicked the paper open once more and continued reading.

      Mr. Bridges,

      Your brother passed away a few weeks ago. I am sorry for your loss. We will be sending his daughter to you since there is no room for another child at the orphanage and you are her only remaining relative that we can locate. It is our fondest hope that Molly will find her voice and happiness with you. Mr. Johnson, the bank president, has requested you contact him in regard to your farm.

      Mrs. Wilkins, Sweetwater, Texas.

      Jake swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d lost his brother and was about to become guardian to a niece that he’d met for the first time moments ago. If he understood the letter correctly, Molly also didn’t speak. His throat felt dry, his eyes stung. His heart broke again.

      He stood and leaned his forehead against the cool rocks of the fireplace and grieved. Lord, what am I going to do? I have no room for a child. No place to keep her. I’m not sure I can do this.