What if it never arrived at all? What if some terrible fate had befallen Miss Timperman? Matthew thought he would never forgive himself if it was the latter.
After months of correspondence with the woman who was to be his mail-order bride, it was his idea to have her come by wagon. It was far less expensive than cross-country train fare. And that was money saved that they could then use to build a home on the land he’d purchased. Miss Timperman had agreed that this was a very sensible idea, and so he’d paid for her to travel with a young couple in their wagon.
But as he reached the circled wagons, he knew something was wrong.
It was in the air—a tense, scared feeling. Women walked together, talking in hushed tones, while the men stood in tight circles with drawn looks and arms crossed. The undertaker’s horses and wagon stood nearby, and as Matthew approached, two men carried something that resembled a body wrapped in white toward the waiting wagon.
A disconcerting chill traced its way up Matthew’s spine as he said a quick prayer under his breath for the deceased. And then another one asking for Miss Timperman’s safety. He could almost hear one of his father’s sermons in his head, telling him to have faith and be courageous.
Matthew adjusted his hat and surveyed the wagons, trying to decide the best way to go about finding his intended. He walked along the inside of the circle, pausing when he came across a woman placing a pot over a campfire.
“Pardon me, miss,” he said, removing his hat. “I’m looking for a Miss Daisy Timperman. Do you know where I might find her?”
The woman’s eyes widened slightly and she bit her lip. Without saying a word, she pointed across the circle.
Matthew turned—and saw a small group crowded around one wagon. He glanced back at the woman.
She gave him such a look of compassion that Matthew’s heart seemed to fall right down into his boots.
“Thank you,” he managed to whisper before running across the sage-covered ground.
He stopped just beside the group. A woman was in tears as a man Matthew presumed was her husband placed an arm around her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Randall,” another man said. A silver star pinned to his vest caught the sunlight, and Matthew swallowed.
The county sheriff was here. Something had happened. Something bad. The sooner Matthew found his bride-to-be, the better he’d feel about all of this.
“Please find her,” the woman with tears in her eyes said. “Daisy is a kind girl, and so very brave, and I don’t— I don’t—” She turned her face against her husband’s chest again as she squeezed her eyes shut.
Matthew froze.Daisy. She’d said Daisy.
“We’ll do our best, ma’am,” the sheriff said. He began to walk away, another man at his side.
Matthew lurched into motion. “Sheriff!”
The men turned.
“Were you speaking of Miss Timperman?” He held out a sliver of hope that perhaps they’d meant another woman named Daisy.
“We were,” the sheriff replied. “Are you acquainted with her?”
“No . . . Yes . . .” Matthew swallowed, trying to clear his head. “What I mean is that we were to be married upon her arrival.” He glanced back at the couple near the wagon. The woman was wiping tears from her eyes, and all sorts of terrible scenarios ran through Matthew’s mind. He turned back to the two men before him. “I’ve only just arrived. Please, tell me what’s happened?”
The sheriff’s face softened. He took off his hat and slapped it against his leg. “I’m very sorry, Mr. . . .?”
“Canton.”
“Mr. Canton. I’m Edward Stone, county sheriff.” The older man held out his hand. Matthew took it. He barely heard Sheriff Stone introduce his deputy. How could something have happened to Miss Timperman? Why hadn’t he simply parted with the money for train fare? She’d be safe, and they’d be married already and back home in Crest Stone, making plans to build a home.
“I fear these wagons were attacked by road agents somewhere between here and Otero,” Sheriff Stone said. “They made off with money and weapons, and after a few of the men from the wagon train tried to waylay them and prevent them from leaving, the outlaws shot a couple of them and took a woman with them to ensure no one would think of coming after them again.”
“Miss Timperman?” Matthew could barely say her name. She must have been terrified. And it was all his fault.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry to say it was her they took. Apparently they wanted Mrs. Randall over there, but your intended insisted they take her instead. Mighty brave woman, I’d say.” The sheriff replaced his hat and glanced toward a group of men gathered off to the right.
“Yes, I suppose she is.” Matthew said the words as his mind raced. If Miss Timperman was in danger, it was his duty to rescue her. “I’ll go with you. I’ve got a horse over at the livery.”
“Go with us?” Sheriff Stone furrowed his brow.
